


Because We Said So

by SantivaPotter_93



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family, Humor, M/M, Romance, Scheming Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SantivaPotter_93/pseuds/SantivaPotter_93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie and Stacie have grown tired of Sam and his satisfaction with his sad train of girlfriends. One night, when Stacie Evans sneaks out, a dose of good fortune-or bad luck appears and she along with her brother and his good friend Ebbie McDaniel, decide to take Sam's romance problems into their own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever

When Stacie Ann was 12 she knew that eventually she would have to commit murder of the first offense. By 14 she was simply waiting to see which of her older brother's train wreck girlfriends would push her over the edge. At 15, she was quite sure she had found a winner in one Rachel Berry—Rachel _Barbara_ Berry to be precise.

Stacie and Stevie had been dealing with their brother Sam's girlfriends for as long as they could remember. There had been a few good years, back when the family lived in Lima, but since their relocation to a town just outside of New York City Sam Evans' love life had turned into a train wreck –constantly stocked with dull, ignorant, overbearing and rude girlfriends. At first, Stacie had reasoned that these girls must be nervous. It couldn't be easy walking into someone's home and trying to prove yourself worthy.

But the pity did last long.

Rachel Berry came after a small drought of women. Sam had seemed much more interested in locking himself in his office to slave over promoting his new website and comic book, but the bright lights and splendor of the city brought him Ms. Berry. A young, petite brunette beauty who is striving for her place amongst Broadway's greatest—which she never let them forget. Among her many topics that night, Rachel particularly enjoyed explaining in great detail her plan to reinvent the face of Broadway with her career—though Stacie had a sick feeling that they had lucked out with the abbreviated version. Stevie and her father did managed to sneak in a question about Mr. & Mrs. Berry, but that led to a 20 minute divergence on Rachel's precious childhood with her fathers. Stacie was all for equal rights, Ebbie McDaniel, the closest thing she had to a best friend was bisexual, but if Rachel mentioned Liza Menilli, her fathers and the Rosie O'Donnell cruise one more time, she was going to be forced to end the aspiring starlet sooner than any of them anticipated. Even their mother, Mary, had a hard time keeping a straight face.

So when the dust finally settled and Samuel excused himself to walk Rachel to her car, Stacie stood from the kitchen table to let loose.

"Is he serious with this chick? I mean, _Oh my god!_ Is this real life—''

"— _or is this just fantasy_?" Stevie cut in. " _Caught in a landslide—"_

"Seriously?" Stacie snapped. "Now is not the time for you to quote the stupid songs that play in your videogames!"

"Stacie," her mother frowned, gathering the empty plates.

"It's _Bohemian Rhapsody_! By Queen! It's a classic!"

"I don't care if it's a Darren Criss sex riot—"

"—that makes no sense," Stevie frowned.

"—none of that changes the fact that Freddy Kruger has a better shot at picking out his future wife than Sam does."

"That's not fair, Stace," her father chided from the sink.

"Not fair? Was I the only one who witnessed that motor-mouthed travesty?"

"She's got a point," Stevie added. "I mean, she didn't even stop to _breathe._ "

"She's just…"

"So what did you guys think?" Sam had jogged into the kitchen, a smile stretching his face as his parents and younger brother struggled to find an adequate response. Stacie, on the other hand, dived straight in.

"Does she not have an off button?" Stacie snapped turning to her older brother.

"No, apparently you don't either," Sam answered, a scowl developing as he stepped further into the kitchen.

"At least I don't spend every waking moment of life making it all about _me_!"

"What your sister means Sam is that Rachel is a bit…eccentric," Mary Evans cut in, before son could retort.

"You're mother's right, but Rachel is a smart girl, she obviously has a lot of ambition and has goals set up for herself, which is excellent," Dwight Evans added.

"So you hate her," Sam frowned. His parents instantly objected. Stacie shrugged.

"Well hate her if you want or be silent,"—Sam side-eyed his look-a-like, who'd found bronze centerpiece on the table extremely fascinating—"But Rachel Berry, is my girlfriend, and I expect _all of_ _you_ to respect that."

"Of course, Sam," his mother sighed.

"And we expect you to let us know when you're ready to bring home the next disaster," Stacie replied as her brother left the kitchen. After her father followed him out, Mary Evans turned to her youngest daughter and sighed.

"You're going to have to stop doing this," she said. " _Both of you_."

"I didn't do anything," Stevie objected.

"That's my point, Stevie. And Stacie every time Sam brings home a girl you sit there and nitpick at everything about their personality. Sam's a grown man. Obviously if he's bringing these girls home, there's bound to be something special there!" Mary Evans began.

"Mom's got a point," Stevie agreed. "The last time you liked on of Sam's girlfriends, Stacie, you were 5."

"That is not true! I like Santana Lopez!"

" _After they stopped dating_ ," Stevie added leaning back in his chair.

"Thank God they stopped dating," Mary Evans mumbled under her breath.

"It's not my fault that they were better off as friends than lovers!"

"I would give you the time we met Brittany," Stevie continued, "but she came here _with Artie, her boyfriend!"_

"I said both of you, Steven," their mother repeated. "Your silence doesn't help either. Let's face it, both of you still act like toddlers when it comes to Sam's love life. Now, I know it isn't easy but—"

"—but maybe if he weren't so horrible with picking them!" Stacie interrupted. "It wasn't always this bad. There was Quinn! And Mercedes!"

"I loved Mercedes," Stevie sighed. "She was perfect."

"She was _flawless_!"

"She's gone." Mary Evans brushed her hands free of the water from the sink and turned to face her two teenagers. "Mercedes and Quinn were both lovely girls, but they're in the past. This is Sam's future, and we need to support him."

"Fine," Stacie huffed. "Can I still go out to Sarah's tonight? We're studying for that Hammerstien's test."

"On a Saturday night?" Stevie scoffed.

"Sarah has a family thing all day tomorrow," Stacie snapped, "and besides, I hate cramming for tests."

"Smells like trouble," Stevie sang.

"Stacie, you know the rules no funny business," Mary Evans said. "And Stevie since you've got so much to say, why don't you get your keys and drop Stacie off. That wasn't negotiable, by the way."

Sarah Everdeen lived on the outskirts of town, in a neighborhood crowded by obnoxious children, stepford wives and men who make workaholics look like saints. Sarah Everdeen was near the top of the food chain at the high school Stevie and Stacie attended, which never ceased to amaze him. Sarah's easy looks and constant effort the ass of nearly every significant upperclassman on the outset seemed to clash with his sister's brash and sarcastic outlook on life, but the pair had inseparable since the beginning on the year. And Stevie supposed he couldn't judge—as head of the AV club and serious animation-stan, the Legend of Korra series was coming out in a few weeks and he wasn't ashamed to admit that fact that he'd wet himself in anticipation-he'd somehow managed to snag the co-captain of the cheerleading squad as his best friend. Ebbie McDaniel was the first person Stevie had ever spoken with after they moved from Lima and despite having the charm of the devil, she'd weaseled her way in as a permanent fixture in life—and had somehow earned herself an open seat for Sunday dinner. But she was still Ebbie, flirting with every guy _and_ girl in sight. Earlier in the year, there had been a string of rumors that claimed that she had slept with half the football team and girl's lacrosse team over the summer. He'd tried to ignore it, but as he pulled up to her house after he had turned around when he was nearly half way back from dropping Stacie off because of an 'SOS' text, Stevie remembered why the rumors always seemed true.

The front door to Ebbie's house was open and she stood in the lit archway with nothing but worn Superman t-shirt— _was that his?—_ and a pair of pink boy shorts. Her hair hung and a loose set of curls and did nothing to help the post-coital look that she was sporting. Then again, when she was out of the uniform, Ebbie McDaniel always had that look.

About twenty feet in front of her stood a raven haired figured, whose arms were extended outward and flailing in the air.

 _He must be new,_ Stevie sighed as he shut the car door and made his way to the arguing pair.

"And you're screwing _guys now!_ "

The he, who morphed into a she as Stevie came closer, turned to him with scathing eyes.

"Honey, I screw everyone," Ebbie shrugged. "I told you that. And we sort of have this thing planned, so…"

"So, what just get off my porch and forget that last night ever happened?" the girl snapped glaring as Stevie made it to the door.

"Pretty much," Ebbie answered.

He rocked on his heels for a moment before offering, "You could come back and try again next week?"

There was a loud huff and groan that teetered on being a screech as the girl stormed off into the darkness.

"Well, I guess you learn something new every day," Stevie said turning to his brunette friend. "Apparently, 'SOS' means 'Save me, Odysseus from these terrible suitors, love Penelope'."

Ebbie threw her head back and laughed. " _You're_ Odysseus in this scenario? Then tell me, my dear and loyal husband, who's Calypso?"

"Still working on that," Stevie smiled stepping inside, "but I'll let you know."

"Well at least you always come home to me," Ebbie teased shutting the door. "Isn't that supposed to be the point of the epic love story in the Odyssey?"

"Among other things," Stevie reasoned taking a seat at the island in the kitchen.

"Oh, quit judging me. If I wanted a lecture or poorly phrased metaphor, I'd first, care that my parents aren't here to give it and then second, listen whenever they tried," Ebbie shrugged pulling out lemonade and two glasses.

"I'm your friend Ebbs, it's my job to be honest with you," Stevie said accepting a glass from her.

"Well right now that's not important," Ebbie shrugged taking a sip. "My issue with Gina is not the reason I asked you to come over. I thought you'd be more interested to hear that you sister is on her way to a 21+ club."

"Bullshit. She's supposed to at Sarah's studying."

"Because that's what girls do on a Saturday night when in 15 minutes you can cross the bridge to party it up in New York City," Ebbie deadpanned. "You have to have more intelligence than this. Besides all the boyfriends of those girls that Stace hangs out with wrote about it on Facebook. One of them was even stupid enough to tag her, but she was quick to shut that down."

"Yeah, that's because she's friends with Sam on Facebook," Stevie groaned.

"Well you can mope about this or you can go upstairs and change some clothes I snagged for you that are a bit more appropriate for sneaking into a club and go nail your sister."

"How long have you known about this?"

"Long enough to arrange a few favors," Ebbie replied standing up. "But hey, if you want to just sit here while your sister gets hit on by a couple of 24-year-olds…"

Stevie was half way up the stairs by the time Ebbie finished her empty threat.

The SugarShack wasn't the most glamorous club in New York City. It teetered on the edge of Manhattan and Harlem but despite its rustic looks, the line inside wrapped around the building. Stacie and her friends weren't in the line and Stevie wanted to turn back then, but a few unwelcome reminders of what could be waiting for them in the club kept him by Ebbie side. His job was to stand there, grimace and let Ebbie do all of the talking—which she did, sweet talking their way inside the club after the bouncers paused over their fakes. It was also probably fortunate that the black bondage dress that she sported left little to the imagination.

Ten minutes inside with the rowdy crowd in the club had Stevie convinced that Ebbie had dragged him along to simply screw with him, but they soon found the blonde head of his sister easy to find. She sported a mask of makeup and tight green dress that Stevie could swear to have never seen before. And best of all she was headed for the dance floor.

"Stacie!" Stevie hollered, bulldozing through the crowd to grab his sister. It would have been quite the sight for Ebbie, watching Stevie transform into the Incredible Hulk in the middle of the dance floor, if it weren't for that fact that Evans siblings were one of the few people that she would stick her neck out for without hesitation. She lived her life and held little qualms about it, but she also held no remorse for the hypocrisy that kept her from letting Stacie enjoy some of the same pleasures she did; particularly the illegal ones.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Stevie fumed.

"You're supposed to be at the house!" Stacie yelled over the music.

"You're supposed to at Sarah _studying_!" Stevie retorted. "I don't think this was Mom and Dad's intention when they said 'have a good time'."

"So I decided to have a night out! Good God, just let me live a little!"

"Living is one thing," Ebbie cut in, "trying to imitate a hooker with clown's make up in 21+ club, when you're underage is another."

Above them, there was a music break and a muffled announcement for a change in artists.

"And _you've_ never been to The SugarShack," Stacie challenged.

"Of course I have," Ebbie replied, "but I was A) smart enough not to get caught and B) stupid enough to go."

"That doesn't make sense!" Stacie growled. "You shouldn't judging me for shit that _you do_."

The live artist had made her way onto the stage, that much Stevie could see from the corner of his eye, but he turned his focus back to his sister.

"The point is that you shouldn't be here. None of us should. So we're leaving."

"Like hell we—"

_Never know how much I love you  
Never know how much I care  
When you put your arms around me  
I give you fever that's so hard to bare_

The Evans siblings froze mid-argument and Ebbie was left to try to snap them out of their haze.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" she yelled. Her voice was too loud and carried harshly as the club had calmed down to listen to the songstress. She was shushed by several onlookers and waved off by Stacie, who moved forward to get a better look.

_You give me fever  
When you kiss me  
Fever when you hold me tight_

"Oh my god," Stevie said numbly. "Is this the real life?"

"Or is this just fantasy?" Stacie finished her eyes glued to the stage. "Tell me this isn't happening."

"Tell me why we're quoting Queen and wetting ourselves over some random singer!"

_Fever  
In the morning  
Fever all through the night_

"She isn't just a random singer," Stevie replied, his eyes still forward. "That's Mercedes Jones. That's my brother's ex-girlfriend."

"Wrong," Stacie beamed. "That's my brother's _future wife._ "

"Your brother's ex-girlfriend is his future wife?" Ebbie frowned. "Weren't you just talking on the way up here about him dating some chick named Rachel?"

"Oh Stevie this is a sign!" Stacie gushed. "We have to get to her. We have to talk to her. We have to make her come back—"

"Steven Michael and Stacie Ann Evans!" a shrill voice, rampant with rage, rang behind them.

_Shit._


	2. The Many Bitch Faces of the Gay Best Friend

Ebbie was slightly put off at the missed opportunity to get her groove on.  
  
Stevie was upset that he'd missed the rest of Mercy's song.  
  
Stacie was wearing a shit-eating grin so large that nothing could put her down—not even the patented bitch face of one Kurt Hummel.  
  
Stacie had been just a toddler when she was first introduced to the infamous scowl. Sam had been charged by their parents to babysit his siblings—"babysit, Sam, not drop the kids off at Mercedes while you run off to serenade, Quinn"—and Kurt had swung by originally to drop off some study materials for Ohio's state-wide standardized test for high school freshman, but he got one look at the train-wreck that was Stacie's hair—she'd asked for some simple pigtails—and decided that it was best for everyone if he prolonged his stay. Kurt was talker than Stevie or Stacie remembered and his new stature lacked the loud and proud fashion style that he'd been previously known for, through Kurt still stood out with his white double-breasted military styled jacket over a pair of dark washed blue jeans.  
  
"What the hell is going on here?" Kurt snapped. "This is a 21 and over club! I don't think any of you are ready to become someone's jailbait."  
  
"They were standing outside of the SugarShack on the crowded sidewalk as the rest of New York hustled past them in search of a quick lay, beer and the scenic splendor of the city.  
  
"Well this one here is," Stevie frowned nudging his sister.  
  
"You would automatically throw me under the bus," Stacie frowned.  
  
"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you!"  
  
"And what does that mean?" Kurt snapped interrupting the pretense for a long winded ol' fashion Evans throw-down. Kurt missed many things about his blonde haired friend and his younger siblings but this was not one of them. Ebbie was the one to step in and explain the tale. As he listened, Kurt also spent his time taking in the third wheel. She was a pretty girl, Kurt could give her that, lithe in form with wild cooper curls that framed a beautiful set of hazel eyes. She was too pretty, even and Kurt was quite sure that she stood a bit too close to Stevie for his taste.  
  
"And Sam must be blissfully unaware of all of this," Kurt frowned turning to Stacie, "else I'll be forced to drag both of you to the asylum. What were you thinking?"  
  
"I wasn't," Stacie quickly answered. "It was totally stupid of me."  
  
Kurt's frowned steepened. Four years as a resident baby-sister for the Evans family had taught him a few simple things—firstly, it's never easy with Stacie Ann.  
  
"You were stupid," Kurt agreed, "and in exchange for keeping this mum from Sam, I suggest that the three of you scurry back home."  
  
"Wait, I know that us meeting here is…albeit awkward—"  
  
"Illegal," Kurt corrected.  
  
"—but it's been forever since we've seen you Kurt," Stacie finished. "Have you been in the city long? Are you just visiting? Or do you live here now? Are you with Mercedes?"  
  
Kurt didn't bother to fight a smile. "Yes, Mercedes and I are living in the city together. No we haven't been here long. We're just two artists trying to make a living on what we love."  
  
"But I thought that Mercy was in California working on a record deal?" Stevie cut in.  
  
"Oh that fell through years ago," Kurt replied. "But she stayed in Los Angeles for a while afterwards. She was doing a stint in Chicago last year when I was in town for a possible Broadway workshop, but that ended and she got restless with the Windy City so we made plans to try our luck back in New York—together."  
  
"So glad to hear it," Stacie beamed. "You know Sam is living in Queens and we're just over the bridge in Jersey City. You should pop in sometime. I know Mom would love to see you."  
  
"I will definitely take you up on that," Kurt smiled, "after I make sure you three kiss your wild night in New York goodbye. Now, did you take the train here?"  
  
"Stevie drove," Stacie answered, "but we can't leave without saying hi to Mercedes!"  
  
"Oh no. She will blow a gasket if she sees you two here!"  
  
"C'mon Kurt, please? 'Cedes loves us!" Stevie gave the best pout he could muster but Kurt stayed firm.  
  
"She's had one hell of a week. Too much drama with the "back-up singers" or really lack thereof in the SugarShack line up. Catching her babies here will just make her do something irrational—like quit."  
  
"Kurt," they pleaded.  
  
"It's not happening," Kurt repeated, "but…it may or may not be of common knowledge that on Thursday nights it's considerably easier to get in the club because it's karaoke night and—"  
  
"—Mercedes will be there," Stevie smiled.  
  
"—as long as you swear to no alcohol or flirting with older men—"  
  
"—you won't rat us out to Sam?" Stacie finished.  
  
Kurt nodded. "But the three of you need to hit the road now, before I change my mind!"  
  
"We'll see you Thursday Kurt!"  
  
"You did not hear that from me!" Kurt yelled watching the trio cross the street. "And Stacie, I trust you to make sure that your brother never wears V-neck tee-shirts again! You look like a sad impersonation of Kevin Federline, Steven!"  
  
Stacie's laughter carried through the street as Stevie led them to his truck.  
  
"That's too bad," Ebbie giggled opening the cabin door. "I didn't think you looked to bad Odysseus. Or perhaps you would prefer K-Fed now."  
  
"Can it Penelope," Stevie replied from the other side. "And the first person who starts making K-Fed jokes gets to walk home!"  
  
The rest of the weekend proved to be uneventful—aside from Stacie's bubbly attitude that lasted all throughout Sunday and into Monday morning.  
  
"Did she hit her head on something at her friend's house Saturday night?" Dwight Evans asked his wife and son after Stacie's cheerful exit from the kitchen Monday morning. "Did we miss something, Stevie?"  
  
"Dad, you know I make an effort not to speak girl. Too many headaches," Stevie shrugged. "I'm about as clueless as you."  
  
"Leave her alone," Mary Evans said. "We may not know why she's so happy, but I for one will not complain about Stacie having a sunny disposition before noon on a Monday."  
  
"Her mood swings are out my hands! I never asked for a girl. We would have been just peachy with three boys. That right there Mary, that is your fault," Dwight teased.  
  
"Dad, you are aware that it's the sperm that determines the sex of a child, right?"  
  
"I knew I was living with at least one intelligent male," Mary smiled at her son.  
  
Dwight rolled his eyes. "I wasn't knocking at God's doorstep ever hour in pursuit of pig tails and Barbie dolls. And if you haven't noticed that girl you asked for, she was full grown cynic by age five!"  
  
"Oh quit acting like she isn't your baby girl!"  
  
"She is but—"  
  
"I am ready for school," Stacie announced as she re-entered the kitchen.  
  
"What are you and what have you done with my sister?"  
  
Carmichael High School stood near the docks of Jersey City, which always made for the perfect distraction from the mundane nuances of the school day. It functioned like any school stuck in a bad chick flick—there were Varsity Jocks, JV jocks, Asian brain children and loud, prepped Stepford-wives in training. A few of them crossed over with the cheerleading squad, though those lovely ladies were primarily characterized by their power hungry, seductive or slightly cruel ways. There was a fair share of sexually active band geeks and those who were painfully un-sexually active. As Stevie made his way to the steps a group of West Point wanna-bees marched past him—in sync naturally. Near the front doors, Carmichael's Upper West Side girls stood gossiping over the general population as usual, today's suspects included Lauren Michaels, a darker skinned girl—Stevie would bet anything that Georgia Lynn, the head minion, was probably just upset that she didn't' have the curves to rock the tight fitting grey jersey dress that Lauren had chosen for the day. Lauren was out, loud and proud and beautiful. And the only bisexual girl that consistently refused Ebbie.  
  
"The frown you're sporting doesn't tell us that you're angry Georgia," Ebbie teased as she made her way down the steps. "It just makes your lady-boner much more obvious."  
  
Georgia turned scarlet and turned her glare on Ebbie as Lauren and her friends strutted by laughing.  
  
"Looking good Michaels," Ebbie called out, appreciating the retreating view.  
  
"Keep dreaming McDaniel!"  
  
Ebbie, clad in her fit-forming cheerleading uniform, reached Stevie as the warning bell rang.  
  
"You know, sometimes, I think this place is really just backwards," Stevie sighed watching Georgia and her friends turn their critical eye to them. "But then I remember that Lauren Michael is still refusing to get in bed with you and I am reminded that all is well in the world."  
  
"Very funny, Mr. President of the AV club," Ebbie tossed back. "When's the last time you got laid? I think for that to happen, you'd have to actually lose your virginity."  
  
"Didn't you know? I was with Calypso last night and all day Sunday," Stevie replied. "And that's President Odysseus to you!"  
  
The day dragged on at a moderately slow pace. Stevie found himself checked out for most of it, which caused him to jump in his seat when Mrs. Lanchester, the Trigonometry teacher from hell, called his name.  
  
"I said you're wanted in the main office," she repeated. "You're being checked out for a doctor's appointment, though you look fine to me. Perhaps if you spend more time paying attention in my class and not sleeping—"  
  
"I should really get going then," Stevie cut in, gathering in things. "Don't want to leave the good doctor waiting!"  
  
If there was an unexpected doctor's appointment on the horizon, then that could only mean one thing—Santana Lopez.  
  
She stood over one of the office aids, scribbling away at the student release log, ignoring the muttering of one of the receptionist. Santana was well used it by now. Though she looked nothing like the Evans children—perhaps if she only focused her attention on Stacie, they could pass off as distance cousins due to mannerism—Santana, their infamous "sister" had been pulling Stevie and Stacie out of school for impromptu doctor appointments for a while now. If his mother ever knew, she'd lose it, but Sam and his father put up with it only because both saw the value of Stevie and Stacie having an "older sibling" close to home—that and she usually had a really good reason for it.  
  
Santana handed the paperwork back over the desk and shot the woman behind it one of her famous salty smiles. She then walked over to Stevie, took him by the shoulder and led him to her car. The tight grip told him that he was in deep trouble.  
  
She let go of him once they reached her baby, a sleek black 2009 Dodge Charger, but Santana didn't last five minutes on the road before pulling over near a local park. If looks could kill, Stevie would have been a dead man.  
  
"Outside. Now."  
  
Her bitch face was much more sinister than Kurt's and Stevie scrambled to get out of the car.  
  
"Tell me Steven," she started slowly, pulling out her phone, "what is wrong with this picture?"  
  
Santana practically shoved the touch-screen device in Stevie face. It was a shot of her in a crowded area, maybe a bar, with her arm around a tall, gangly brunette.  
  
"That guy in the picture is really ugly?" Stevie guessed. That earned him a slap across the back of his head.  
  
"Try again," she snapped zooming in on the photo.  
  
Shit.  
  
Santana was standing in a club. In the SugarShack to be precise and Stevie could now see himself in the background. Santana put the phone away and stepped closer to the shaking blonde.  
  
"Start talking. Now."  
  
Stevie quickly went into recounting Saturday night's events making sure to emphasis on the little amount of time that was actually spent in the club.  
  
"You know, I have half a mind to tell Sam!"  
  
"Don't," Stevie argued. "Stacie feels horrible. Kurt really chewed her out. She practically cried the whole way home." It wasn't a complete lie—Stacie had shed a few tears on way back, thanks to her bubbling excitement. His sister was determined to get Sam and Mercedes back together.  
  
Santana frowned but stopped crowding Stevie. "I'll have to have a few words with Stacie then." She huffed loudly before turning her gaze to the ice cream stand not too far from them. "C'mon Blondie Jr., let's get a cone and you can tell me about the rest of your glorious weekend."  
  
They spent about an hour scarfing ice cream and walking on the nearby trail that circled the park. Stevie gave her a brief update that included Rachel—Santana had yet to meet Sam's latest squeeze but she expressed her immediate dissatisfaction from Stevie's synopsis—and in return Santana divulged a bit about things on her end. She was getting a bit restless with working at her father's doctor's office and while she knew she wanted to get back into music, she wasn't quite ready to jump ship to New York like Sam, chasing after wild dreams. Stevie wagered that it had more to do with their blonde friend Brittany, who owned a fabulous dance studio in downtown Jersey City, but Stevie was in no place to say such. Santana Lopez was the daughter of one of the best doctors in Jersey City. Her uncle was a praised surgeon in Manhattan and to make things worse her older brother was on his 8th year in the United States Marine Corps. She could kill Stevie and make it look an accident—a terrible, terrible accident. When the hour was up, Santana dropped him back off at Carmichael armed with a doctor's note with Dr. Angelo Lopez' John Hancock. The receptionist at the front desk looked over it for an embarrassingly long time before dismissing Stevie back to class.  
  
He was still mulling over the latter half of his conversation with Santana hours later as he waited for his sister to emerge from her four o'clock dance class at Brittany's studio. By the time Stacie emerged, however, Stevie was sporting a grin that put his younger sister's weekend long sunny disposition to shame.  
  
"Did they announce the release date on that new Star Trek movie or something?" Stacie asked as she opened the doors to her brother's truck.  
  
"Nope, not yet, but meanwhile I've come up with a fool proof first step in what I think we should dub: Operation Samcedes."  
  
"Samcedes?"  
  
"Yeah, Sam and Mercedes," Stevie explained. "I think the name's pretty ingenious."  
  
"And I think the fact that you've been stealing Sam's lemon juice hair dye is finally starting to show…"  
  
"Stacie, be real for a minute. If you're serious about getting Sam and Mercedes back together then we have to clear the way of any and all potential roadblock—i.e. the best friends."  
  
"Well, Kurt loves Sam, no issues there," Stacie shrugged.  
  
"True, but Santana doesn't know Mercedes and sometimes she can come off as the 7th circle of Hades. Frankly, I don't know how Sam expects to Rachel past, San. We need to make sure that Santana and Mercedes don't start hating each other."  
  
"It'll be impossible for San to approve of the motor mouth once we show her how amazing Mercy is," Stacie smiled. "Dear brother, it seems I may have underestimated you. But how are we going to get them to meet? Setting them up for a lunch would be way to obvious but Santana would never agree to coming with us to the SugarShack."  
  
"With the accurate means of persuasion," Stevie smiled averting his gaze to the glass doors behind Stacie. From them, a tall blonde emerged holding a plush purple unicorn in her arms, as she led one of her younger students inside.  
  
"That idea…it's crazy—"  
  
"It's so crazy, it just might work!"  
  
Stacie Evans rolled her eyes and sighed. "We can go inside and try to convince Brittany, but you have to leave the Dana 

arvey impersonation in the car."

"Deal."


	3. Sweet, Sugar, Candyman

"I'm confused."

This wasn't a new mantra from Brittany S. Pierce. Though she was a killer dance, the tall blonde beauty was infamous for wild perceptions on reality—Santa Claus real? Dolphins as gay sharks?—so when she was hit with the truth, her face often scrunched together and cocked to the side.

"Listen Brittany," Stacie began again. "We just need you to—"

"No, I understand what you want," Brittany cut in. "You want me to convince Santana to take you to the SugarShack so that she can fulfill her dreams because you have a friend in New York who wants to meet her."

"Exactly!" Stevie smiled.

"That part I get, I'm just confused on why you'd think I'd be okay with escorting you inside a 12 and over club?"

_Damnit Brittany._

"Because you care about Santana, right?" Stevie answered. "Then you know how restless she's getting here in Jersey City. She can really low! Santana deserves her best shot and I think our friend Mercy can really help her get there. Don't you want that for San?"

Brittany's frown deepened as she leaned back in the chair behind her desk. "Of course I do. I want Sanny to be happy, but she's never going to agree with you two tagging along."

"But we _have_ to come," Stacie interjected. "Mercy loves us and if we're there she'll be sure to love Santana. She's expecting us anyway. We're not there to drink or party, just to meet up with an old friend."

"And Sam knows about this right?"

Stevie shifted slightly as Stacie flashed Brittany her best smile. "Sam really wants to come with. I'd tell you to call him myself, but its crunch time at his office. He's been overworking himself to get his comic project approve and he's shut off his phone for the week. You can try to call him, but I doubt he'd pick up."

Brittany reached into the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a silver cellphone. The phone, which she put on speaker, didn't even ring before Sam's voice filled the room.

"Hey, this is Sam Evans. Sorry I couldn't answer the phone right now. If you leave your name, number and a message—"

Brittany sighed as she closed the phone and placed it back her drawer.

"Okay fine, but there better not be any funny business!"

"How the hell did you two pull that off?" Ebbie McDaniel asked walking into Stevie's room the next afternoon with a bowl of warm popcorn. The aroma of butter quickly took over the room and it was a necessary distraction from the tiny green soffe shorts and Incredible Hulk—that was _definitely_ his—shirt that clung to her form.

"It's because we're magical," Stacie replied from the edge of Stevie's bed.

"Well, I'm coming with you," Ebbie announced joining the Evans siblings. "There's no way that I'm missing this reunion scene. Besides, Stevie, you're going to need a helping hand with Ms. Jailbait over here."

"Seriously," Stacie snapped, "does no one believe that I am 100% focused on the operation at hand?"

"No," Stevie and Ebbie replied. Ebbie was lounging towards the head of the bed, half her body draped over Stevie's as they kept the popcorn in Ebbie's lap.

"So, we get Santana and Mercedes to become best friends and then what?" Ebbie asked. "Exploit the friendship?"

"No, not exploit necessarily," Stevie replied. "We just need to make sure that Santana has the worst possible introduction to Rachel—"

"—which will be a breeze," Stacie cut in.

"—and Santana will naturally go back to Sam and complain and start asking more questions about Mercedes. She'll probably end up doing more meddling than us. We just need to lay down the foundation."

"And Mercedes and Sam are just supposed to magically fall back in love?"

"Listen Ebbs, once Santana has laid down the foundation then all Stevie and I have to do is request some alone time, just the four of us, for nostalgia's sake—"

"—a couple trips to the local park, a drive in theater or a dip in the lack and BAM," Stevie finished. "Samcedes is back on!"

"You really think it's going to be that easy?" Ebbie laughed.

"You're welcome to doubt us, Ebbie, but we know our brother and future sister-in-law," Stacie replied. "Thursday night will be the beginning of the end for Rachel Berry!"

By the time Thursday night arrived both Stevie and Stacie were restless. School had passed by tediously and the only word they heard from Brittany was to meet her and Santana outside of the SugarShack at 10. At 8:30 Stevie threw the duffle bag that had clothes—mostly his, apparently his closet was a sad, sad place and would need the aide of feminine intellect if they were all getting back into this club. They still needed to get to Ebbie's change and head up to the city. Stevie had just stepped back inside to grab his sister, when their mother called out them from the living room archway.

"Where are you two headed off to?"

"Stevie and I are going to hang out at Ebbie's tonight," Stacie said making her way down the stairs. "Her mom is out of town again, so we're just going to keep her company for a few hours."

Mary Evans frowned. Cassandra McDaniel and disappearing act had been going on for years now and worried the mother sick. She had a soft spot for Ebbie and while Stevie hated to use his best friend's family troubles to their advantage, it did provide the perfect out on a school night.

"We'll be back by curfew, Mom," Stevie said.

"Go ahead and have some fun. You two only have a half day tomorrow, so I guess we can wave the curfew tonight," Mary Evans offered. "Just know that the two of you are still going to school in the morning. Keep that in mind when you trail in here at 4 am."

They arrived outside of the SugarShack just after 10. Stevie was shocked that they pull up any later—Stacie and Ebbie had shuffled him through nearly 5 different outfits before they agreed on something. As promised, Santana and Brittany stood outside of the club, waiting for them.

"I cannot believe that I agreed to this," Santana frowned once they approached.

"You'll thank us for this in a few years," Stacie smiled. "Shall we?"

The line shuffled through the front door quickly. There was a tall well-built man standing at the front entrance with a well-kept Mohawk, dressed in the typical all black bouncer attire. When they finally reached him, Brittany flew into his arms.

"Hey Brittany baby," he smiled at her. "And Satan, are you still breaking hearts with that sunny disposition of yours?"

"Bite me Puckerman," Santana replied. "We want in."

"Since when did the SugarShack become your go-to place? I thought you were still singing the blues down in Jersey?" Puckerman asked. His eyes roamed past Santana to Stevie, Stacie and Ebbie. The three of them stood as nonchalant as possible—only Ebbie was really able to pull that off—and Stevie was left wondering what exactly Kurt mean when he said that Thursday was the easy night to get in.

"We've got a little meeting with a Mercedes Jones," Santana continued.

"Mercy?" Puck frowned turning back to Santana. "Well, she does hate it when people are late…these three with you?"

"Kurt!"

Stacie shouted over them to the brunette was clearly seen from the doorway making his way through the club. Kurt Hummel turned instantly and fought a sigh as he made his way to the entrance.

"These three are with me, Puck," Kurt told the bouncer.

"Are you serious, Kurt? How old are—"

"I know what I'm doing," Kurt cut over him. "They're with me. All of them."

Puck shrugged and stepped to the side letting all five of them pass through. Kurt chuckled watching them approach. "I suppose I should be pleased that you brought chaperones this time."

"We're not here to babysit," Santana said.

"Where's Mercedes, Kurt?" Stacie asked.

"Near the front, but you five come with me," Kurt said leading them to the bar. "If 'Cedes is going to kill me, I'd like to get a least one shot in. Rory!"

Brittany and Santana shared a curious look as a small sandy haired kid—he didn't look much older than Stevie—appeared from under the bar. "Evening Kurt," he greeted with a thick Irish accent. "What can I get you?"

"One shot of vodka, please and whatever my two friends here want," Kurt explained pointing to Santana and Brittany. "And then I need you to take a good look at these three faces here and memorize them because you should never see their faces again."

Rory frowned as he slid Kurt his requested shot, but Kurt quickly downed the drink, requested a refill before disappearing to find Mercedes.

"I thought she was _expecting_ us?" Santana frowned at the young trio as Brittany order their drinks.

"Relax Santana," Stacie stepped in. "Kurt's just on edge about meeting in the club. It's no big deal. And look here she comes!"

Indeed Kurt was returning with Mercedes in tow. He was leading her blindly, his hands covering her eyes and when they reached the bar, Kurt paused for a moment before removing his hands.

Stacie didn't realize that she had been holding her breath until Mercedes brown eyes opened. She'd been playing this moment over and over in her head since watching her sing last Saturday. This was what they'd been waiting for. Sam's relationship with Mercedes had been the highlight of his senior year of high school and the early years of his undergrad, everyone in the family knew it. And the summer he came home after the break up, he'd been miserable. How could anyone miss the fact that he rarely drew, rarely sang or fiddled with his guitar, or even smiled? Sam had thrown himself into summer school and work and by the time the summer was over, the first of the worst came around—her name was Suzy Pepper and this hot tamale nut-head began a train of Samuel bringing home only the finest that New York and Jersey had to offer.

When Mercedes opened her eyes, she stood in shock for several moments before whipping her head back to Kurt, stuttering to get a confirmation. When he nodded, Mercedes turned back to Stevie and Stacie and threw her arms around them.

"Oh my god, you two are so big!" She smiled brightly, pulling back from them and it was in that moment her chipper mood disappeared in a flash, as if someone had turned the lights off…or the light-bulb on.

"Wait, _what the hell?_ What are you all doing here?" Mercedes snapped.

"This is going to be good," Santana grinned, leaning again the bar.

"And who the hell do you think you are, leading minors into a 21+ club?" Mercedes retorted turning to Santana.

"Pipe down, Aretha," Santana replied standing up straight. "They would have come here regardless."

" _Aretha?"_

"Well, I call it like I—"

"Santana," Stacie intervened, "I want you to meet Mercedes Jones, singing extraordinaire. Mercy, this is Santana Lopez, she's a family friend. And the blonde next to her is Brittany Piece."

"Brittany S. Pierce," Brittany corrected. "Like Brittany Spears."

Mercedes smiled kindly enough to Brittany, but turned back to Stacie and said, "What the hell does your friend mean 'you would have come anyway'?"

"Well last week Ebbie and I were in Central Park," Stacie began, "and we ran into Kurt—"

"Oh, _really?_ " Mercedes frowned, glaring at her brunette friend.

"I was in between auditions, just passing through," Kurt said.

"—yeah and we ran into him and got to talking and he mentioned how you were having all these problems with the little girl group and San here mentioned to Stevie earlier about how she wanted to get back into music and so we thought you two should meet," Stacie explained.

"Yeah, Santana is an awesome singer," Stevie added enthusiastically. "She does Amy Winehouse almost better than Amy."

The corners of Santana's frown itched into a small smile at Stevie's praises, but Mercedes didn't look so impressed.

"Well this club as enough drama without two more—"

"C'mon 'Cedes, don't be that way," Stacie pleaded. "At least give it a shot? It could be like an audition."

Mercedes shared a long look with Kurt before turning to Brittany asking, "Do you sing too?"

"I can hold a note or two," she replied.

"Oh you're coming up there with me missing," Santana said.

"Well then, Brittany and Satan follow me. Let's see what you've got."

As they watched Brittany, Santana and Mercedes head for the stage Kurt let out a dramatic sigh. "Well at least we've all still got our body parts. Though, I don' t know what game you three are trying to play with your two new friends."

"No game," Stevie said. "Just musical intuition."

"Musical intuition?" Kurt scoffed. "Stevie, when you were growing up, you couldn't even sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' without bleeding the ears of innocent bystanders—primarily _me._ "

"That hasn't changed!" Ebbie smiled.

"Lay off! Sam is supposed to be showing me around the guitar soon," Stevie replied. "I can hang with the rest of you music-geeks."

"I _know_ you're not calling someone a geek," Stacie muttered under her breath.

"Bless your brother's heart," Kurt teased. "And speaking of him, how's Sam doing?"

Stacie was ready to answer but the girls were now on stage and Mercedes had just finished up announcing her two new friends.

_Sweet, Sugar, Candyman_

The swing number put life in the partygoers who had resorted to either lazy grinding or drinking games. The dance floor quickly became crowded and even Ebbie grabbed Stevie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him off.

"IS there something going on there?" Kurt asked Stacie as they watched Stevie helpless keep with Ebbie's shuffle.

"As of right now no," Stacie answered. "But who knows! They've been playing cat and mouse for years now. But if you really want to know, you'll have to talk with my dad. He's the one running a bet on the two of them."

"I find it hard to believe that _Ain't shit_ Sam's baby brother is afraid to talk to a girl," Kurt said.

Stacie laughed. "Well, Stevie doesn't even have half of Sam's so-called "swag". Besides, Ebbie is Stevie's best friend and I know that Stevie is one of 5 people that Ebbie trusts irrefutably."

"So they're scared," Kurt sighed.

"Welcome to my life."

_He's a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop  
He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated Candyman  
Sweet talkin' sugar coated Candyman_

"So, Sam?" Kurt asked leading Stacie to a table for them to sit down.

"Oh he's good," Stacie told him. "He's got a new girlfriend."

"And?"

"She's alright, I suppose," Stacie shrugged. "She's a bit of a motor-mouth, though."

"Ugh, I hate those! There's this one girl who's working in an off-Broadway show that I almost did and we have….an interesting friendship, but other than her, I just cannot stand women who don't know when to shut up about, especially when all they do is—"

"—talk about themselves?" Stacie finished. "I hear you, though I suppose it doesn't really help that you're not a big fan of women to begin with," she teased.

"Look at you with all this wit!" Kurt threw back. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet little angel?"

"She's unavailable at the moment," Stacie replied, "but why don't you tell me about _your_ love life?"

"Why my dear Stacie, we haven't even gotten to yours!"

"Nada. Zip and I'm not looking for one either. "

"Same," Kurt replied. "The only relationships that Mercy and I are committing ourselves to are our careers. Plain and simple."

_He's got those lips like sugarcane  
Good things come for boys who wait  
He's a one stop shop with a real big ugh  
He's a sweet talkin' sugar coated Candyman_

As the number came to a close, the SugarShack erupted in applause. Stevie and Ebbie made their way back to the table, grinning like fools.

"So, how's that for no musical intuition?" Stevie beamed.

"I suppose you all did well," Kurt smiled. "See that man chatting it up with Mercy and the girls? That's Will Schuester. He runs the club every night, but it's technically owned by Al Motta, who will no doubt be furious to hear that his _Super Nova_ and _Berry 2.0—_ "

"Berry 2.0?" Ebbie asked.

"Inside joke," Kurt replied. "Anyway, Al will probably throw a fit, but I doubt that even he can ignore the fact that this trio could be fabulous."

"I can't wait to do that again!" Brittany smiled as she, Santana and Mercedes neared Kurt's table.

"You weren't too bad out there, Aretha," Santana smiled.

"You too Satan," Mercedes replied. "But I think it's high time for you three to scram. Will is calling Al down here now and if he catches minors here, he'll have my ass."

"When can we see you again, Merc?" Stacie asked. "It's been too long."

Mercedes smiled and instructed Stevie to hand over his phone. She put her number in his contacts list and told him to call her later next week. She then shooed them out but not before yelling, "Stevie! Don't think that the next time we meet again, you won't have to introduce me to your girlfriend!"

"Oh no she's no—"

"We're just—"

"Next time, love birds!"

"I am such a _genius!_ " Stacie sang as they made their way to the door.

"It was a team effort," Stevie corrected. "Besides, this was my idea."

"Well this team may have a serious problem."

Ebbie was facing back towards the dance floor, her eyes locked on the table that they were just crowded around. An addition had been added—a tall guy, thickly built and he hovered over Mercedes as if he was seriously interested in spending some quality time making _cocoa babies_ with her.

"Who the _hell_ is that?" Stacie spat.

"That's Shane Tinsley," a voice called from the bar. Rory was still on duty, wiping down bottle. "He's known around here as the 'Bulldozer' because he used to play arena football for the Philadelphia Soul."

"What, he wasn't good enough for the Eagles?" Ebbie muttered.

"Well, he better find another tree to bark up," Stacie growled waiting him flirt shamelessly with Mercedes. "That is **not** happening."

"C'mon Stace, Ebbs, we've got to get going," Stevie said pushing them out.

Once they were out on the cold street, Stacie let loose, yelling to the dark skies and effectively clearing the sidewalk—no one was quite ready to deal with a petite blonde who was currently moonlighting as Jack the Ripper.

"I don't think she's quite ready to see this text from Santana," Stevie said to Ebbie passing his phone.

 _You all aren't slick_ , the message read _. I can see what you're doing and the jury isn't out on Mercedes or Rachel._

"So we have a definite Rachel problem, a Shane Tinsley problem and now a potential Santana problem. She'll tell Sam everything, if she doesn't approve of Mercedes!"

"No," Stevie argued, smiling slowly. "Santana doesn't to like Mercedes. She just has to like Mercedes _more than_ Rachel. You know, Ebbie, I think it's about time that little Ms. Streisand met Sam's best friend."


	4. Best Friends, Lovers, Frienemies and Everything in Between

_One Week Ago_

"So let me get this straight," Sam Evans said, leaning back in his office chair. "You _want_ to meet Rachel again?"

His sister Stacie, who stood in front of him, simply shrugged. "Mom thinks that I may have been a bit too harsh with my original assessment of her. She really does think that you and Rachel have something special and…I know that I may be prone to jumping to conclusions, especially when it comes to the lovely girls that you bring home, so I'm willing to give this another shot."

"You and Rachel….a re-do. Where you promise not to say anything offensive?"

"I promise to have an open mind," Stacie replied. "That's the best that you're going to get out with me and you know it."

"True," Sam chuckled. "Alright, I'll give Rach your number—"

"Hold it there tiger. You will do no such thing unless your suddenly devalue your life," Stacie corrected. "I'm going in with in an open mind but that doesn't mean that I've lost my own. Just have Rachel call the house. After our little lunch I can decide whether I want Ms. Berry to have my number."

Sam rolled his eyes. He'd long learned that it was Stacie Ann's way or the highway. Fighting with her would be futile. "Just promise me that there won't be any funny business."

"We'll be going to lunch in broad daylight Sam," Stacie said. "They'll be plenty of witnesses."

Sam fought a smile. "Alright then, I'll have her call you tomorrow."

000

The Evans family lived in a respectable home. It wasn't flashy like most and it surely didn't stand out the way that the miniature mansion Ebbie's mother owned did. In fact, the quaint four bedrooms home was the smallest on their block. There was a modest garden that decorated the front porch—the one in the back was a tad more extravagant and kept up by Mr. Evans—and a well-kept grassy front lawn, which on any given Saturday morning Ebbie could find Stevie Evans mowing half-naked…not that she was looking of course. Their friendship practically rode on sexual tension, that much she was more than willing to accept, but there would be no hookups with the blonde nerd for her. She figured that every girl needed at least one guy friend and Ebbie would rather go on an infinite sexual dry spell than ruin her friendship. Besides, there was a particular joy in being able to simply relish the view of a fit green eyed, blonde haired guy hustle his way through a kitchen without his shirt or shoes. She may have sworn to never screw him, but Ebbie was always appreciative of the view.

"So are we the only ones here?" Ebbie asked Stevie as he moved between the microwave and his laptop, which sat on the kitchen countertop.

"Yep. Mom spent the night in Buffalo visiting her sister. She won't be back until later tonight. Dad had to make a quick run to the office. He should be back in a few hours."

"And Stacie?"

Stevie flashed Ebbie wicked grin before tossing her a small inanimate object.

"What does a dusty old pin tell me about where Stacie is?" Ebbie asked turning the old sunflower pin over in her hands. "Is this your mother's because antique doesn't exactly scream Stacie Ann?"

"Well Stacie is wearing a pin identical to the one that you're holding as we speak and it's not just a pin." Stevie picked up his laptop from the counter and held if for Ebbie to see. She took a step back from the wide screen, recognizing the ample view of her own cleavage and adjusted the position of the pin until she could see her own face.

"Where did you get this?"

"Every gadget store in NYC has a really cheap version of this pin. I bought two last weekend while Stacie was settling things with Sam. Lukas Henson agreed to put his tech degree to use and upgrade the camera and radio system so that it'll perform effectively for more than five minutes."

"So we can see and hear anything that this pin does," Ebbie asked as her voice echoed throughout the kitchen.

"That's right Penelope, anything that the pin is near, like Stacie's date with one Rachel Berry."

"Oh you mean the disaster date of the century?"

"The very one. Now why don't you take my computer upstairs and plug it up? I'll be up in just a few with the popcorn, drinks and other delectables for this afternoon's show."

Ebbie giggled as she took the computer from her friend and made her way to the door. She had nearly stepped out into the hallway when she turned to ask, "Lukas Henson? That name sounds familiar."

Stevie stiffened instantly and let out a soft sigh. "It should," he answered slowly. "He's on your 'hit list'."

"My 'hit list'?"

"Yeah, the list of guys and gals that you've _hit_ since freshman year," Stevie continued.

"He was the tall, sandy haired kid who was the king of the AV club in 9th grade?"

"Yeah and the one guy I asked you not to go spread easy on."

" _Spread easy?_ " Ebbie deadpanned glaring at the back of Stevie's head until he turned to face her.

"I know it wasn't a one-time thing for you two."

"You sound pretty upset for something that happened two, almost three years ago. And pretty damn informed about it, especially since we never talked about Lukas—"

"Look, let's just drop it okay?" Stevie interjected. "It's your sex life, not mine. Let's just move on."

"Why did you even bother asking this Lukas kid for help?" Ebbie pushed.

"Because he's good at what he does, okay?" Stevie snapped. "Jesus, Ebbs, please. Let it go. Just head up? I'll be right behind you."

He turned back to the sink and Ebbie resumed making her way to the stairs.

Stevie's room was the second on the left. It hadn't changed in years—not since New Year's three years ago when Sam gave Stevie about 20 different comic book covers which Stevie and Ebbie used to create a montage on Stevie's ceiling. That winter break Ebbie's mother left for a business trip two days after Christmas and the Evans family, along with Sam's busty blonde named Veronica who was a bit too bubbly for everyone's taste, tried to make her stay as welcome as possible. It was then that Ebbie realized how fucking perfect they were. Not in the literal sense, of course—Stacie still had a mouth that could make convicts cry, Mr. Evans was still working constant overtime, which drove his wife nuts and Ebbie would bet one first edition copies of the Marvel comics that Stevie hoards that he still felt slighted by the gradual distance that Sam was putting between himself and his family. But none of that was terribly unusual. None of it was unexpected. In the end the Evans family was a unit and as Ebbie plugged up the computer and gently caressed an old picture frame that held an aging photo of the clan, she couldn't stop the small smile.

"God that picture is so old," Stevie said softly. He stood at the doorway watching Ebbie was a ghost of a grin on his face. "We took that not too long after we moved here. Back when you were too cool to talk to me."

"Yeah, well that was because you were the biggest geek I knew," Ebbie replied lightly.

"And now?"

"Well, you're still the biggest geek I know, but you're my geek."

The brief moment of peace between the pair was interrupted by the soft but clear ring of the doorbell below.

"I thought you said we were alone for at least a few more hours?" Ebbie asked, following Stevie down the steps. He opened the door to find Sam, dressed leisurely, rocking on his heels.

"Where's your key?" Stevie asked letting his older brother in.

"Left it at my place by accident," he replied. "Figured I'd come over to see you since my girlfriend ditched me for my little sister—"

"So you figured that you could get your kid brother to ditch his best friend," Ebbie teased from the steps.

"You know Ebbie, there was a time that _I_ was Stevie's best friend," Sam replied smiling at the young girl. "Are you two here alone?"

"Yeah," Stevie shrugged ignoring his brother's wide grin, "but that happens all the time. Ebbie and I were just—"

"—just about to watch the leaked episodes of Legend of Korra," Ebbie stepped in.

" _They were leaked!_ " the two Evans boys exclaimed.

"Wow, you two really are nerds," Ebbie replied. "Tell me, does that run in the family?"

The two siblings mirrored each other in blush that started at the tips of their ears and both shifted their weight to left. Ebbie couldn't help but smile at some of the uncanny behavioral traits between them.

"Well since the two of your look as if you're going to have a heart attack, how about you two enjoy your brother bonding time and I go enjoy some Korra time."

"Who's the nerd now," Stevie challenged.

"Steven, what's the fourteenth episode of Star Trek: The Original Series season 1 called?"

"Balance of Terror," Stevie replied automatically before his face flushed again with blush.

"My point exactly," Ebbie smiled.

"I was just thinking of crashing on the couch and playing some Call of Duty," Sam said. "Why don't you join us?"

"I'd love to Sam, but I want to actually give you a shot at winning. Besides, I've got a hot date with a young, highly animated heroine who's going to have a long _talking_ to with that big bad Amon…."

Stevie's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he scrambled for an excuse to join her.

"Relax Stevie," Ebbie smiled. "I promise to leave the streaming link up for you. That way you won't be able to miss a thing."

000

Stacie Ann was leading Rachel Berry into the seventh circle of Hades, not that the latter wasn't aware. Rachel hovered over Stacie's lithe form almost as if she were ready to cling to the young girl at any given moment. The dim, grungy bar was quickly proving to be a bit too much for the aspiring Broadway star, but that didn't deter Stacie from smiling brightly at her brother's girlfriend—a smile that was too wide for the frame of her face, not that Rachel noticed. Her eyes stayed trained on the towering, gruff and slightly greasy waiter who had come to Rachel and Stacie's service. When the brunette wasn't warily eyeing him, her eyes flashed to the door, mentally calculating the distance no doubt. The entire scene was enough to make Ebbie cry. The pin Stevie gave his sister had wonderful reception and picked up every fidget that the young woman had to offer. She and Stacie sat in Nicky's Tavern, an old bar in downtown Jersey City and home to apparently the best milkshakes in town.

"So Rachel," Stacie began, "what kind of music are you into?"

"I strive to keep my musical selection as purified as possible," she answered immediately. "Barbra's works are all time favorites, naturally, Gene is also quite nice as 'Singing in the Rain' is a personal favorite of mine and Sinatra isn't too bad for down time—"

"No pop music? Anything that someone born in this millennia would listen to? Sam's a pretty big country fan."

"Well Samuel is well aware of my distance for the mixture of banjos and violins."

"Banjos and violins," Stacie muttered under her breath. "You sure know how to pick 'em Sammy…"

Rachel didn't respond as her attention was quickly averted to the far left, just outside of the camera's range.

"Oh a songstress!" Rachel announced. "I'm intrigued to see what sort of repertoire—"

"This is downtown Jersey City, Rachel," Stacie cut in, "and it's only two o'clock. Santana'll probably just sing some Amy or Adele or MJ."

" _Oh."_

"Oh?" Stacie repeated. "You have a problem with Michael Jackson?"

"Well, it's just…I think his contributions to music have been admirable, but ultimately I feel as though his music simply does not live up to its full potential."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ebbie muttered watching Stacie fold her hands several times over and stretch a painful smile.

"Interesting," she finally replied.

Ebbie snickered as she sent Stevie a quick text, warning him that Nicky's might soon have a bloody situation on their hands. Lucky for the pair of them, Santana started her first song—an Amy Winehouse number—and Rachel became grossly invested.

"Oh my."

"What now?" Stacie asked.

"It's just, while this singer has a lovely raspiness to her voice, she still wavers in and out of tune and the timbre of her voice is wild at best. It's just obvious that she hasn't been trained properly."

"I see," Stacie replied as her milkshake and Rachel's coffee arrived. They didn't talk during rest of Santana's set—though Rachel's face stayed in a slight frown and at any given moment would be accompanied by a soft "mmph" or a slight shake of her head. There must not have been many guests in Nicky's that afternoon as Santana's set was exceptionally short. Ebbie had barely finished her bag of Doritos when the saucy Latina came into view and faced Rachel with a sugary sweet smile.

"Stacie, who's your friend?" she asked.

"Oh Santana, this is Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is Santana Lopez. She's Sam's best friend."

Ebbie nearly choked on her cream soda as she watched fear flash across Rachel's face. Her bright smile returned speedily, however, as she greeted Santana saying, "Nice to meet you. Sam said that you would be out of town…for a few weeks…"

"Aww," Santana cooed. "That probably means that he was afraid to introduce you."

Rachel laughed uneasily as she offered Santana a seat.

"So Rachel," Santana started flagging down the lone waiter, "why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself."

That request quickly proved to be a mistake. The Rachel Berry memoir monologue was just as painful and long-winded as Stacie had previously complained—filled with generous tales of county talent shows, sing-a-longs with her fathers to a loving audience of plush animals, and a particularly special tale of her first visit to Gershwin Theater, which happened when she was six. Santana had barely made it through fourth grade before she slammed her drink against the wooden table.

"Wow, has anyone ever told you that you talk too damn much?" Santana asked. "In fact it seems as if you never stop talking about yourself. Seriously, you talk more than a toddler on crack, which I suppose is fitting since you look like a toddler—a toddler stuck in a sick fantasy of a Japanese business man, that is."

"Well…Samuel is quite found of my fashion sense."

"That's because _Samuel_ is lying to you. He's just too nice to complain about the fact that you're probably stealing Stacie's old baby clothes from Mrs. Evans' attic."

Ebbie's blonde haired friend struggled not to laugh as the two women continued to glare at each other.

"Well, I think that's rather inappropriate of you, but you're entitled to your own opinion I suppose," Rachel reasoned. "Stacie and I were just in a discussion about musical artists."

"Oh I see, and I'm assuming by your poorly executed stink eye during my performance that you have a problem with Amy Winehouse."

"No, Rachel doesn't like Michael Jackson," Stacie corrected.

Santana leaned forward and starred at the offending brunette in disbelief. "I would throw your coffee at you but it's not nearly scalding enough. The next think you're going to say is that the Beatles were just a bunch of idiots who couldn't get off the LSD or that Whitney Houston was just some dumb crack-whore, who only had one good song—"

"Actually, I put Whitney's music in high regard. Her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner in '91 was simply flawless. I practice it in my sleep."

"You mean you _butcher_ it in your sleep," Santana corrected, "seeing as the only woman who can do it justice is sadly no longer with us, but at least you're not completely hopeless."

All pretenses of pleasantries were wiped from Rachel's face. "Well you know my "stink eye" as you called it earlier had nothing to do with the artist selection, but merely the manner in which the song was being performed."

"Excuse me?" Santana said.

"Since we're being honest here," Rachel continued. "Your rendition wasn't exactly applause worthy. It's clear that you haven't been properly trained or—"

Rachel's rant was interrupted by Santana knocking her coffee into Rachel's white chemise vest and snapping at her in Spanish. In the Evans home, Ebbie could barely keep herself together as she watched Santana verbally lay it in on Rachel. The door to Stevie's room flew open, and had it been Sam that walked in, Ebbie would have been helpless from keeping the showdown from him. Thankfully, it was just Stevie who after a quick glance was sent into a fit of laughter.

"I don't even know where to _start_ with you. Your head is so far up your own _ass,_ I don't even know how Sam can date you!Madre de Dios!Where does he find people like you?" Santana snapped. "But I do find comfort in the fact that there's no way in _hell_ that you two will last."

"You know nothing about Sam and me," Rachel retorted. "And if you don't like it…well then, why don't you just go…go jump off a cliff!"

"After you princess," Santana mocked watching Rachel huff as she grabbed her things and made her leave.

"Who is Sam kidding with this one?" Santana scoffed as Stacie let out a loud laugh. "What the hell is he doing with her?"

"Beats me," Stacie replied once she could breathe again. "But it'll only be a matter of time before he— _shit_."

Santana frowned as she watched Stacie bring her phone to her ear.

"Who is it?"

The pin that Stacie wore picked up a muffled voice, definitely male and coupled with the angry stomps downstairs that were quickly followed with the front door slamming shut, Stevie and Ebbie were quite certain of who had called.

000

Sam met his sister outside of Nicky's nearly fifteen minutes after Rachel had stormed out. He was livid as he dragged his sister through the city streets in search of his girlfriend.

"What did she even tell you?" Stacie asked trying to keep up.

"Nothing!" Sam snapped leading a furious pace. "All I could hear was her crying. And what the hell were you doing at Nicky's? During Santana's shift? You promised me no funny business!"

"Hey, I asked Stevie to text San about when she _wasn't_ working. It's not my fault that he told me the times that she was!"

Sam didn't reply, though the chances of him swallowing that particular lie were slim. He didn't slow down or bother to face his sister. In fact, if he had any reaction to the excuse it came several moments later when Sam stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, though Stevie was quite sure that it was due to something else entirely.

Stacie had come to stand right beside him so the small camera embedded in the pin could take in the view of a small floral shop across the street, where a few customers roamed inside.

"Can you zoom in?" Ebbie asked. Stevie shook his head, though he fiddled with the image settings anyway. It was fruitless attempt, but a pair of the patrons inside of the store exited shortly and Stevie nearly dropped the soda that he had been previously holding.

"Is that Mercedes?" Ebbie asked squinting at the screen. "Who's the blonde that she's standing with?"

"I think that's Quinn Fabray," Stevie replied.

"Sam?" Stevie asked her brother softly. Her body had turned to face him, putting his frozen face into perfect view. "Don't you want to talk to them? That's Quinn, right? Quinn and Mercy? Y'know, your friends from high school?"

"No," Sam said suddenly, turning sharply and heading back down the sidewalk.


	5. 10 Things I Hate About You

Stevie Evans likes to count himself among the intellectuals of his world—it was a small one, he could admit, but still—and he liked to think he was above certain things: like groveling to his brother's ex-girlfriend in the middle of her not-girlfriend's dance studio.

"You can't back out now," Stevie begged. "We need you!"

"I'm not backing out," Santana countered, trying to attract minimal attention. "But I'm not here for breaking up Shane and Mercedes."

"You said yourself you don't even like him—"

"I bumped into him once at a club, I barely know the guy. Now as far as Sam and Rachel go—"

"But that's the thing, Santana! This is how we get rid of Rachel. Hear me out. I know it may seem slightly cruel, but we have to look at the bigger picture here. Sam is on a downward spiral when it comes to his girlfriends. That means that the next girl could be just as bad, or even worse than this one! Or even better, there could be no next girl. Sam could settle down with Rachel and then they'd be making offspring. And not the cute ones brought by stork. We're talking about little minions that will corrupt our world as we know it!"

"As much as I think you've read one too many comic books this week, you may have a point there."

"See! Think about the poor children, Santana! He'll make you godmother, and force you to—hey are you even listening?"

Santana shook her head as she walked away from the blabbering blonde and began scribbling wildly on a piece of paper that she pulled from her back pocket.

"Here," she said once she finished, handing the paper to Stevie, "I think you'll find this useful."

"What the hell was that about?" Stacie Ann asked approaching her brother as Santana sauntered off, leaving Stevie with a goofy smile.

"Say hello to my little friend," Stevie smiled, passing Stacie the list.

"Seriously, Scarface? Now what are you—hello beautiful," Stacie chuckled as she took in the list before copying a few pieces of information down and handing it back over to her brother . "You head over to Ebbie's and fill her in. It seems I have a coffee date coming up."

The front lawn of Ebbie McDaniel's miniature mansion was for once not littered with bitter female conquests, overly obnoxious jocks or Stevie's personal favorite, asshats named Mike who always arrived higher than a kite— _that's the saying, right?_ Dismissing his errand thoughts, Stevie was pleased to see the sleek silver sports car that belonged to Margie Sampson, the Gretchen to Ebbie's Regina…not that he knew anything about catty feminine-reigned hierarchies or burn books or whatever the hell "fetch" was. Stevie knocked on the large wooden door twice before his cell phone buzzed, informing him to let himself in with the key under the welcome mat.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked once he made it past the foyer.

"Because you're the only idiot who bothers coming over here during our girl time," Margie replied from the couch. "Even Ebbie's conquests know better."

Ebbie couldn't be seen from Stevie's backhand view but he knew that she was snuggled up with Margie—after all a Heath Ledger film was on the screen in front of them.

"I know how much you two love Heath. I mean his portrayal of the Joker in 'The Dark Knight' was truly…" Stevie trailed off as he realized that two sets of eyes were now attempting to glare a hole in his skull.

"Um…Ebbie…can I just borrow you for a quick second? You really should see this."

"Five minutes bitch, or else I'm starting this up again without you!" Margie warned as Ebbie lead him into the kitchen. Once inside, Stevie handed over the list and went hunting for something to snack on.

"Check the lower left cabinet…is this a—"

"Yep," Stevie smiled as he broke into a bag of Doritos. "Didn't realize you'd be watching the inspiration, but that right there is how we solve our Shane problem."

" _Assuming that all bigger girls want the diet soda or calorie count at the restaurant"_ Ebbie read aloud. "Oh this is going to be good."

OOO

"I'm so just so glad that we were able to do this," Stacie beamed. Her brother inhaled another bite of his sausage as Mercedes smiled.

It was Wednesday, four days since Santana's chat with Stevie and now he and his sister were being treated to a late lunch by Mercedes, thanks to a well-timed half day at the high school. They strolled leisurely through the ever crowded streets of New York City, occasionally popping to into stores of interest. Dragging Stevie out of a comic book store had taken more willpower than Stacie and Mercedes initially anticipated. For the most part, they treated themselves to the delights of the street vendors, picking up whatever comfort foods they could find along the way.

"I'm glad we could do this too," Mercy smiled as she silenced her buzzing phone. "I've missed you all. How are your parents?"

"Still sickly in love with each other," Stacie replied. "The PDA has gone through the roof, but Mom does think that Dad works way too much and Dad thinks Mom's going to worry herself into early menopause."

"Wait, your mother hasn't hit menopause, yet?" Mercedes asked.

"Why are we talking about Mom and menopause?" Stevie demanded his voice rising higher than his sister's, which naturally sent Mercedes and Stacie into a fit of giggles.

"My poor baby, we'll stop," Mercedes smiled as Stacie rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. It's not like we were describing the joys of the menstrual—"

"Hot dogs!" Stevie cried out, interrupting his sister and racing to the nearest vendor.

"Stevie, if you eat another dog you'll be sick," Mercedes chided.

"If I have to hear the end of the previous conversation I'll be sick," Stevie corrected paying the vendor. "Besides, this right here is a man's best friend."

"Yes, a half cooked sausage stuffed with pig parts and artificial preservatives smothered by stale mustard is naturally more appealing than the companionship of a cuddly four legged animal who always show love when given it," Stacie scoffed as Mercedes fought another smile.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you lately?" Stevie asked his sister, tossing his hot dog amidst Mercedes' laughter.

"So Mercy, how's that love life of yours going?" Stacie asked. "Should we be meeting a special someone soon because that cell phone of yours—"

As if on cue, Mercedes' phone buzzed for the sixth time since the trio hit Time Square.

"Seriously, who is this guy?" Stevie asked as Mercedes shut off her phone.

"His name is Shane," Mercedes explained. "He's a sweetheart, but rather persistent—which is completely unnecessary when I've already agreed to go out with him."

"Ah, so he's an abusive texter," Stacie said.

"If he subtly hints or even flat out asks me if I'm ready for our big date Saturday one more time, I'm going to have to unexpectedly come down with something!"

"Or fake a car accident," Stevie suggested as Mercedes and Stacie offered him looks of bewilderment. "What? It worked in Hitch."

"Okay, he faked a car accident to get the girl, not get away from her!" Mercedes corrected fighting another smile.

"Exactly, while you're faking a car accident to get away from Shane, you could be simultaneously running into the love of your life."

"I'd have to know him when I saw him, sweetie."

"Maybe you do," Stacie interjected. "Maybe he's closer than you think."

"Cryptic much?" Mercedes teased lightly. "You know something I don't?"

Stacie shook her head as she took another sip of her bubble tea. "Only that you deserve the best and you shouldn't have to settle."

Mercedes ducked her head slightly at the compliment. "Life is not the amount of breaths you take. It's the moments that take your breath away. That was good movie."

"Speaking of moments that take your breath away," Stacie started, "Sam looked like he had a near heart attack last week when we saw you and Quinn and the floral—"

"What?" Mercedes cut in stopping in the street. "Me and Quinn? Quinn Fabray?"

"That's the only blonde haired, green-eyed beauty I know," Stacie affirmed. "We saw you two last week looking for flowers."

"You most certainly did not," Mercedes snapped as she marched forward. Stevie and Stacie struggled to keep up with her pace for a while, but once she turned down 7th Ave, Mercedes slowed her pace.

"I'm sorry," she began. "It's just…I haven't spoken let alone seen Quinn in years. Last I heard, she was still up north at Yale getting her PhD. Good for her I suppose."

Both Stevie and Stacie wanted to press her for more, but they had rounded another street corner and The SugarShack was now in sight.

"Are we celebrating my birthday early?" Stacie teased.

"No," Mercedes smiled. "I just need to run in here for a quick sec. I'm going to drop you two off with Puck while I try to find Schuester in the back."

"Mercy, I think we're old enough to forgo the baby sister," Stevie said as they walked inside the dim club.

"Right," Mercedes scoffed, "says the two underage children who've managed to sneak in here twice. Noah!"

Mercedes called out to a man that Stacie quickly recognized as the bouncer from their second visit—not that she could ever forget that haircut.

"Do me a favor and keep an eye on these two while I chat with Will, please?" Mercedes asked. She accepted his kiss on the cheek before scurrying towards the back of the club.

"I hope you're not looking for your perfect match in Mercedes because you can kiss that dream goodbye," Stacie interjected before Puck could even make a quip about their age.

"Is that so?" the bouncer challenged. "Last time I checked, Cedes is single unless your big bad brother over there thinks he has something to say about it."

"She's not interested in you," Stacie reiterated.

"Well no shit, she's all tied up over some blonde haired kid—"

"Sam?" Stevie cut in.

"Oh dear God, _please_ tell me your name is not Sam," Puck begged. "Holy shit Cede—"

"No! That's our older brother's name. Sam Evans."

"Well, then could you please tell your brother to make a move already? Before someone…a tad more interesting else comes along?"

"Like Shane Tinsely?" Stevie tested. Puck threw his head back and laughed wildly.

"In the immortal words of Miss Jones: Hell to the no. He can barely make it up to the plate to bat, Tinsely. They haven't even gone out yet and he's already driving her nuts. Not exactly the best way to give your first impression."

"So you want Sam and Mercy to hook up?" Stevie asked.

"I want Cedes to be happy. She's good people, and she deserves that. Besides, we can all see the smile that lights her face when she mentions that Sam kid, even in passing."

"Well then you should join our side," Stacie smiled. "We have cookies."

"I think I'm a little too old for your cookies sweetheart, but thanks," Puck replied as Stevie blanched.

"Ugh no," Stacie groaned. "I'm talking about Operation Samcedes."

"Samcedes? What kind of backward ass name is—"

"Do you want to help us or not?"

OOO

Stevie Evans liked to count himself among the intellectuals of his world; he liked to think that he was above certain things: like climbing a tree to stake out his brother's ex-girlfriend's date with an NFL washout. He was up in a large oak tree that stood in Central Park, which was home to Number 7 on Mercedes' blessed list of 10 things she hated on first dates—least favorite place for dates.

"Pass me the binoculars," Ebbie said from the branch below. "I want to see how bad it is."

The pair was perched uncomfortably in the tree that gave the best view of Mercedes' lunch date from hell with Shane—not that the binoculars were particularly necessary.

"How did Stacie manage to set all of this up?" Ebbie asked as she watched Mercedes' stiff body language tense as Shane remained blissfully unaware.

"She may have given Shane Mercy's pet peeve list once he was under the impression that it was a list of a few of her favorite things…"

"Rude," Ebbie snickered. "The edible arrangement of fruit that she can't eat? The cologne extravaganza? The daily Bible emails?"

"Well Merc hates grand gestures from guys she barely knows according to number 3," Stevie explained. "Too much cologne is number 8—apparently it's an excellent way to figure out if your date isn't too fond of body wash, but I think the Bible emails were all Stacie. She may have gone a tad bit overboard there."

"Damn," Ebbie sighed. "I almost feel bad for her. Tell me Stace is it really as bad as it looks?"

Two tables from the blooming couple sat a lone figure shrouded by a long trench coat, black fedora and newspaper. Stacie was hovering as close to the action as she dared. The tables between them remained empty, allowing greater ease for her agenda and providing less interference for the two-way she concealed behind her paper and the pin that Stevie stuck on her hat so that he and Ebbie could hear tune in from afar.

"Yep, it's that bad. Jeez, I think he may be worse than Rachel Berry," Stacie replied.

"I'm sorry, but have you forgotten the time when Rachel spent twenty minutes describing her fourth time to a Broadway show, in which nothing actually happened?" Stevie called out over the two-way.

"Oh that's right," Stacie agreed. "I try to suppress traumatizing memories."

"Plus the bitch doesn't like Michael Jackson," Ebbie added. "Which is ridiculous because—"

"C'mon Ebb, the guy was accused of rape, multiple times!"

"Okay smart ass, would you like to tell the class how many times he found guilty?" Ebbie countered. "He may have had some personal issues, but Michael Jackson changed the face of music videos. Hell, he practically created the music video!"

"I just think—"

"I remember this story Sam told me once," Stacie cut in over her brother. "He and Mercy were seniors and he tried to subject their Glee club to doing a Whitney week. I believe that this particular story ending with Sam fearing for his life."

"That may be so," Stevie mumbled, "but Ebbie would never..."

"In a heartbeat, Evans," Ebbie corrected.

"See Stevie, that was code for, shut the hell up before Ebbie throws you out of that tree," Stacie replied. "Hold up, Shane's leaving."

Mercedes' date was in fact taking a leave from the table allowing Mercedes to drop her smile and throw her head back in frustration once his back was turned.

"That bad?"

Stacie froze in her seat as the slim form of Kurt Hummel glided past her and took Shane's vacant spot.

"I got your text," Kurt smiled apologetically. "How much longer till—"

"Don't know and frankly I don't want to know," Mercedes grumbled. "But if he mentions the scouts from Philadelphia one more time…"

"Are you sure you aren't being too hard on him?" Kurt asked. "He seemed so nice at the club."

"He's trying too hard. I just want him to be himself, but maybe you're right. What about you? Don't you have to meet the Broadway Diva?"

"Yep, Rachel is supposed to be introducing me to her new boyfriend. If it really gets bad, SOS me again and I'll come rescue you. I should get going, I see Shane heading back. Chin up, Diva and be nice! Remember you're supposed to be enjoying yourself!" Kurt smiled rising to his feet.

"You don't think think…?" Ebbie asked openly as Kurt walked away.

"No way," Stevie replied. "Look Shane's back with ice-cream. Oh god, I think it's vanilla. There goes number 9…"

"Hey, let me see—"

" _Steven Michael_!"

The shrill male voice caught Stevie off guard again—however unlike the last time, his feet weren't planted on solid ground, a small detail that Stevie came to realize after he lost in balance amongst the branches and landed on his left arm.


	6. Life Management Skills

When he was just a sophomore in high school Kurt Hummel found himself in a Life Management Skills course that was usually reserved for seniors. He ended that year with the class' highest grade. The next year, Kurt was the TA, and by his senior year he felt more than qualified to teach the material. Kurt Hummel remembered almost everything about that class, even though he must have skipped the lesson that clearly detailed what to do when a sixteen year old boy falls out of an eight foot tree.

For the first few seconds after Stevie's bad landing, Kurt and Ebbie stood over the young Evans as he groaned in pain, both in complete shock, before something in Kurt clicked as he ordered Stevie's not-so-but-totally-girlfriend to help him up so that they could get Stevie to the Urgent Care Center on 5th Ave. In his mind, Stevie Evans was going to get some damn medical attention or Kurt was at least going to die trying.

"This young man needs to see a doctor _right now_ ," Kurt huffed the minute they were through the front doors.

"Well, sir, I need you to fill out this paper…"

"No time for the paperwork," Kurt interrupted the nurse behind the desk. "We need a doctor."

"I see that, but his arm is probably just…"

"DOCTOR!" Kurt demanded.

"Actually, one of the rooms just cleared out," a nurse announced as she passed through a set of double doors. "We can have you wait there for Doctor Anderson, while you fill out the paperwork for your son."

Kurt was in full damage control mode, not even bothering to correct the nurse about Stevie being his son until they were situated in the room.

" _Do I seriously look_ that _old? I have got to get back to using that anti-aging cream," he thought—_ but even placed in a room didn't sit well with Kurt for long. The nurse had ensured him that the doctor would be in shortly; however, after twenty minutes Kurt Hummel was getting restless.

"Stevie you stay here…

The teen muttered under his breath, " _Where_ am I supposed to go?"

"…and Ebbie you come with me. We're going to find this supposed doctor," Kurt huffed storming out of the room. "And Stevie, keep trying to get a hold of your parents or your brother! Make sure you use your good arm!"

" _Yes mother_ ," Stevie grumbled as they left.

They wandered through the hallways together in silence, passing by nurses with curious looks directed towards them without pause, until Kurt finally asked, "What were you two doing in that damned tree in the first place?"

"Um, well we were sort of spying of Stacie again," Ebbie replied.

"Stacie? Again? Don't tell me she was on a date with some child molester from the club."

"I'm not so sure about the _who_ in question, but she'd been acting really weird all week. and Stacie usually tells me everything, so I thought it a bit strange when I overheard her talking about meeting this guy in Central Park this weekend," Ebbie continued. "We just wanted to make sure that she was safe."

Kurt grunted affirmatively and pressed on but when they moved past an open room where three doctors were singing of all things, Ebbie hung back to listen.

_Let's go all the way tonight  
No regrets, just love  
We can dance until we die  
You and I will be young forever_

"What in the holy name of Elie Saab," Kurt muttered doubling back to Ebbie's side. Three men dressed in the customary green scrubs were serenading a small family, no a young girl. A girl, who couldn't have been more than six or seven, had a playful Hello Kitty scarf wrapped tightly around her head. She was smiling brightly at the men, showing off a missing tooth, swaying as they re-mastered Katy Perry's hit that didn't instantly make Kurt's ears bleed.

"I see you found Doctor Anderson," the nurse who led them back, Lyra, smiled as she stood next to Ebbie and Kurt. "He really be finished any second now. That little girl Laurie is a former patient of his."

"Former patient?" Ebbie asked. "I thought this was just an Urgent Care facility."

"It is," the nurse replied, "but this time two years ago Laurie's family brought her here when she wasn't feeling too well. Doctor Anderson was forced to be the bearer of bad news."

"Is it terminal?" Ebbie asked.

"I'm not really allowed to say, but there's hope for her. She likes to stop in every now and then and Blaine—I mean Doctor Anderson will drop just about anything to make her smile."

"Apparently that includes other patients," Kurt muttered though a smile was still threatening to form. If Doctor Anderson was the gelled-back front man then Kurt had to admit, the man was cute.

As the trio came to a close, applause broke out from the young girl and her family. Even Kurt found his hands coming to together in salute. The nurse Lyra stepped into the room and spoke quickly to each of the men, before the gelled raven haired doctor stepped forward.

"Sorry about the delay," he said smiling brightly. "I'm Doctor Anderson and I hear there's a broken arm waiting for me?"

Despite his tardiness, Blaine Anderson proved to quite the physician—and he was trying to make a young girl smile, so Kurt supposed he couldn't hold it completely against him. He whipped plenty of jokes about Star Trek and other worldly aliens that Kurt had no bearings of, but it kept Stevie entertained and slightly distracted as Blaine reset his arm.

"Any word from your wife or husband?" Blaine asked Kurt as he fit Stevie into a cast.

"Oh no! That's not my child," Kurt said hastily.

"Kurt's like my surrogate brother," Stevie added. "Though I'm pretty sure he did change my diaper once…"

"Why you just admitted to wearing a diaper after age 6 is completely beyond me," Ebbie muttered.

"Actually _you_ just said that," Stevie frowned. "Thanks by the way…"

"Yeah, they're not my kids," Kurt reiterated. "He's my friend from high school's younger brother. And it would be husband…if there was a husband….which there isn't by the way."

By the end of his little spiel Kurt's entire face was red, Ebbie was giggling behind her hand and Blaine wore a smile that stretched his entire face.

"Well that's a shame," Blaine said, "for someone else."

"For someone else?" Kurt clarified.

"Wait, why are you not included in the 'someone else'?" Stevie asked.

"Steven, stop talking," Ebbie hissed.

"Stevie you're going to be just fine," Blaine told the young blonde, "though I am going to need you to give the arm a rest. No falling out of trees, heavy lifting, or things like that. In fact, the only reason you should be using that arm is for a shield for when your girlfriend is ready to hurt you. She might just take pity on you." Blaine winked at Ebbie as the color drained from Stevie's face.

"She's not my girlfriend," Stevie said. "I don't get why everyone keeps saying that."

"It's because I have to mother you to make sure you can actually function in society," Ebbie quipped. "He won't touch a thing. He's a bit of a wuss anyway."

"Hey!"

"Well, here's the paperwork for the front desk," Blaine said to Kurt handing him his clipboard. "Sign the papers, give them your insurance information for billing purposes, and you'll be on your way."

Kurt smiled, taking the clipboard from the handsome young doctor and took the opportunity to give the man a full appraisal. The scrubs he wore may not have done much for him, but it sure did _enough._

"Um...Kurt, Sam just called. I think he's outside," Stevie tried to interrupted as the two men continue to smile at each other. "Kurt?"

"Stevie let's go," Ebbie snapped, grabbing her friend by his good shoulder and leading him out the door. "You two enjoy your eye-fucking session!"

When the door closed behind the two teens, both men let out a soft laugh.

"I should go and meet Stevie's brother," Kurt smiled.

"Stevie's brother, who isn't your boyfriend right?" Blaine asked.

"Oh yes, Sam is…he's very much straight. And I'm…not."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah," Blaine repeated heading for the door. "Good."

"So, I'll just never see you again?" Kurt asked lightly.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Blaine grinned. Kurt looked down at his clipboard and saw a notice for a doctor's appointment for _the man with the white double breasted Louis Vuitton jacket_.

"It's actually Alexander McQueen, but points for trying," Kurt teased.

"Well then I'll have to do better next time Mr.…?"

"Hummel," Kurt introduced him. "I'm Kurt Hummel."

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine repeated his smile growing. "I'll see you next week."

Kurt Hummel was in a complete daze, one that lasted until he passed through the double doors that led to the waiting room and was attacked by a strong grip and head full of blonde hair.

"Thank you _so_ much Kurt!"

Sam Evans stepped back to regard his old friend with a weary smile. "I can't believe they ran into you of all people!"

"Yeah pretty crazy," Kurt agreed trying to reign himself from his high.

"Hey, I know that smile," Sam said slowly a wicked grin forming. "Kurt Hummel what's going on?"

"He's gonna get fucked in the ass tonight," Ebbie said from Stevie's side.

"Ebbie!" Stevie hissed as Sam and Kurt flushed red.

"What Stevie? Did you not pay attention in Sex Ed last semester? How else do you think Kurt's getting some?"

"Ebbie, that is like my older brother!"

"You're acting like it's your _little sister_!" Ebbie replied. "Kurt's a grown man, he deserves some sexual gratification."

"And he also doesn't deserve to have his sex life discussed by two sixteen year olds," Kurt cut in as Sam choked back a laugh.

"Ebbie you never cease to amaze me," Sam chuckled. "C'mon let's get you two home. Kurt is there anywhere I can drop you off? My girlfriend is just…"

Said girlfriend—or really banshee—stormed into the Urgent Care center has Sam's words dropped off and marched right up to the blonde man.

"Samuel Andrew Evans!"

"Hey babe," Sam said sweetly wrapping Rachel in his arms. "Sorry, if I went a little crazy back there. I just needed to make sure Stevie was alright. Ebbie, have you met Rachel? Rach, this is Stevie's best friend Ebbie. And this here is…Kurt?"

The man in question was staring at the couple as Sam had grown a set of horns on his head and Rachel had in turn sprouted an additional set of arms.

"Oh well, this is perfect!" Rachel smiled.

"Perfect? How is this perfect? Kurt what's wrong with you?"

"Sam this is Kurt," Rachel introduced, "my friend that we were supposed to meet up with."

"Kurt? My Kurt?" Sam stammered. "He can't be your Kurt. I've known Kurt for years. We used to do it in high school."

"Oh did you now?" Ebbie teased as Sam realized his mistake.

"Wait Rachel, you're dating Sam Evans?" Kurt asked.

"I'm sorry to break up this family reunion," a nurse from the desk interrupted them, "but I haven't gotten an insurance card to charge yet so…"

"Of course," Sam said scurrying to handle the fee.

"Yep, that's my Sammy," Rachel cooed as Stevie and Ebbie fought the urge to roll their eyes.

"Wow," Kurt said slowly, still trying to force his brain to accept this new reality. "Small world."

"Yes and as soon we get you a guy, we should double!" Rachel continued. "I know this amazing guy named—"

"If the words Sebastian Smythe come out of your mouth Rachel, I'm going to be forced to end our friendship. I wouldn't touch that bastard with a nine and a half foot pole."

"Well aren't you a mean one Mr. Grinch," Stevie teased.

Kurt shook his head as he tried not to smile. "You know, since Stevie and Ebbie are clearly in capable hands I'm going to—"

"Oh no you don't," Sam argued from the desk. "You're coming back with us to Jersey City. My mother would kill me if she knew I saw you and didn't drag your skinny ass back with us."

"I would love to really," Kurt said, "but I should be heading back to my apartment. Mercy is supposed to be getting back soon and—"

"Wait, Mercy as in Mercedes Jones?" Sam asked, perking interest. "You live with Mercedes now?"

"Yes," Kurt replied. "And she's going to kill me if I'm late, so how about a rain-check on diner with your parents?"

"Sure," Sam said softly. "Uh thanks again for watching…"

"No problem," Kurt said. "It was actually pretty nice. Just like old times."

By the time Kurt made it back to the apartment that he shared with Mercedes, he found her already in the kitchen boiling pasta.

"Worst date ever!" Mercedes groaned as Kurt sat down at the small wooden table.

"It was really that bad?" Kurt asked.

"It was like someone gave Shane a list of all my pet peeves and he was just determined to make sure they all played out," Mercedes complained, turning from the boiling pot. "The man even made sure that I only drank diet sodas. With _Splenda_."

"Blasphemy," Kurt teased.

"Oh leave me alone!"

"Come on Mercy, live a little!" Kurt replied. "Don't you ever think that your standards are a bit too nitpicky?"

"No," she answered. "I am a grown ass woman and I have no time for people's bullshit. You know what a man pushing diet soda on me says? It says 'baby I think you should lose some weight'."

"It does _not_ ," Kurt argued. "He could just like diet soda is all. Did he drink it too?"

"Yeah," Mercedes grumbled, "but something else just wasn't there. I felt like I was talking to a wall. A wall that was determined to tell me all the things that he thinks that I want to know instead of letting me get a feel for him myself."

"And Lord knows you need a feel of _somebody_ at this point," Kurt added dodging the towel Mercedes hurled his way.

"Hush up you," she replied fighting a smirk. "How was your day?"

"I saw Sam Evans."

Mercedes turned off the stove and turned back to her roommate. "What?"

"Yeah, I had to take Stevie to Urgent Care because he fell out of a tree—"

"My _baby_!"

"Your _baby_ is sixteen years old Mercedes," Kurt chuckled. "He's just fine, other than the fact that he's completely in love with his best friend. I swear if I hear either one of them says 'we're not dating' one more damn time, I'm going to lock them in a closet until Mother Nature does her work."

"Leave Stevie and his little girlfriend alone. Tell me more about Sam."

"Mercy," Kurt started hesitantly. "He has a girlfriend."

" _Oh_ ," Mercedes said taking a seat across from Kurt. "Well of course Sam Evans has a girlfriend. The boy was gorgeous in high school. I can only image what he looks like now."

"Yeah, he was looking pretty rude today in that V-neck shirt," Kurt agreed. "But you wouldn't believe who he's dating. _Rachel Berry!_ "

"What? Is Sam on drugs?"

"Oh she's not that bad!"

"Kurt you complained about that girl for weeks when we first moved here! The only reason you two are friends is because I suggested that you take the girl out to coffee so that you can at least be civil," Mercedes reminded. "I can't believe he's with her now. I don't mean it as a jab; I just thought she'd be a little too high strung for Sam."

"That's what I thought," Kurt mused. "But if they're happy…"

"Yeah, if he's happy," Mercedes muttered under breath. "Look Kurt, I'm going to head up for my shower. The pasta's done, and there's sauce from the other night in the fridge. I figured you'd want to eat before we headed out to meet Santana and Brittany for rehearsal tonight."

"Thanks babe," Kurt said watching his friend head up. He hadn't missed the way Mercy's head dropped slightly at the mentioning of Sam having a girlfriend, or at the fact that it was Rachel Berry. They had been good together in the beginning Sam and Mercedes, but it would be silly of him to think they could turn back time and erase everything that happened in their college years. Yes, Kurt decided as he stood to grab the sauce from the refrigerator, it was for the best that Sam and Mercedes were no longer an item. Both of them needed to move on. They needed time to heal.

As Kurt combined the sauce and noodles the shrill of his cell phone rang out in the small cramped room. Without bothering to look at the caller ID, Kurt pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hey Kenneth, this is…"

"This is _not_ Kenneth," Kurt said stiffly. There was a very long pregnant pause before she responded.

" _Oh_. Hi Kurt."

Kurt closed his eyes and bit back a groan. It was just what he needed to ruin his day. He hadn't even said her name aloud, but somehow the cosmos were insistent on making sure that he was reminded that Ms. Prom Queen was never too far.

"Goodbye Quinn," Kurt snapped before closing the phone and getting back to his dinner.

Yes, it was for the best that Sam and Mercedes weren't together anymore, because Kurt Hummel absolutely _refused_ to go down that road again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Credit: Teenage Dream by Katy Perry (who should really just give all her songs to Darren...let me stop...)


	7. Just Underneath the Surface

"Hell no," Ebbie snapped furiously as she brushed through her classmates in the crowded hall. Stevie was struggling to keep up with his curly haired friend. It was bad enough that someone had pissed her off, which cued her bitchy cheerleader mode, but what he needed from her…

"Actually _fuck_ no," Ebbie added stopping abruptly in the hall and turning to face a flustered Stevie. There is no way in hell that you or Stacie are going to con me into being Rachel Berry's bitch."

"That's not what we're asking," Stevie pouted. She usually caved when he pouted, claiming that he looked like a kicked miniature poodle—her favorite dog.

"Really?" Ebbie scoffed, "You could have fooled me. Running errands at the drop of a hat for someone who has yet to make it on Broadway certainly sounds like being their bitch! No Stevie. Find someone else."

"There is no one else," Stevie argued. "Stacie can't do it, because Rachel would know that something was up, and the same goes for me. But Rachel barely knows you. She has no reason not to trust you. And technically you'll be the director's second assistant."

"Yes, second assistant which means that the first assistant is too damn busy to deal with that high strung diva's bullshit," Ebbie snapped.

"Ebbie, I promise to make it worth your while," Stevie swore. "How about for the next month and half I forgo every Saturday afternoon to at your mercy."

"How about for the next three months, you promise to be my bitch," Ebbie amended. "That way I can channel my aggression in a useful manner."

"Just on Saturdays?" Stevie clarified.

"I still feel like you're getting off too easy with this deal," Ebbie groaned. Stevie looked around quickly to see if anyone of great importance was around. After all, he had a reputation to protect. Seeing no one, he knelt in front of his best friend of five years and said, "Ebbie Michelle Anita McDaniel, I swear to commit myself to you every Saturday morning _and_ afternoon in return for you doing this great favor my sister and I. And while I plan to uphold this promise unless detained by Mother Mary herself, I do think that some form of punishment should be shared with Stacie Ann."

"What the hell is going on here?"

Stevie turned to see Margie Henson approaching them. Margie was a fellow cheerleader. The two girls had kindled a friendship when they both joined the squad freshman year. Personality wise, Margie and Ebbie were two peas in a pod, which often to Stevie's disadvantage.

"I'm proposing," Stevie explained quickly before turning back to Ebbie. "So what do you say?"

"Just get the hell off of the floor," Ebbie sighed ignoring Margie's raised eyebrow. "I'll see you Saturday."

Stevie smiled brightly and nearly picked Ebbie off of the floor as he hugged her in thanks before scurrying down the hall.

"I don't know what's more pathetic," Margie began, "the fact you've been friends with that nerd for so long or the fact that you've been friends with that nerd for so long and you're _still_ not honest with each other."

"Excuse me?" Ebbie replied.

"Ebbie, I am one of _three_ friends that you actually bother saying more the "hello" to on a consistent basis," Margie said. "Don't you think I'd notice when you have a legitimate crush on someone?"

"I'm sorry I need you to repeat that," Ebbie said shaking her head. "I just had a hallucination in which you suggested that I for some reason have non-platonic feelings for Stevie Evans."

"Not hallucination," Margie told her. "It's called reality. I'll see you at practice."

"Stay off the drugs!" Ebbie said as Margie walked away from her.

Thankfully, Margie didn't bring up Stevie later that day during rehearsal. By that time, Ebbie herself had completely shaken off the conversation. Margie had a habit of starting conversations that she had no intentions of finishing; her latest opinion about Stevie would go with all of the others. Besides, Ebbie was quite sure that Margie didn't even _like_ Stevie. Stacie, she would admit was funny, but Ebbie's admittedly pretentious friend never had many nice things to say about the blonde boy that she often kept around, so why would she care if things changed now?

It was nearing seven o'clock by the time Ebbie made it up to small theater where _Jungle Boys_ was rehearsing.

"Are you Ebbie McDaniel?" a balding man asked exasperatedly. He had bags under his eyes and the glasses that were perched on his long nose were askew.

"Yes," Ebbie responded. "You must be the director."

"Welcome to the team Ms. McDaniel," the man smiled warily. "Now I'm sure that you were informed that this is a volunteer position only correct…"

 _I love my best friend, I love my best friend, I love my best friend,_ Ebbie chanted bitterly in her head as she answered, "No I wasn't but I guess it's a good thing that I love the theater so much!"

"Great," the man laughed. "I'm Bob by the way and I do hope that we can pay you for your services after the show premieres."

"I understand Bob," Ebbie said. "Just show me where the monster is."

"So you heard then," Bob chuckled uneasily. "Well I guess it's time we introduce you to Rachel Berry."

Bob didn't follow her all the way to Rachel's room. An attendant had come to pull him away and a few of the cast members warily pointed to Rachel's dominion. Ebbie pushed the door open to find the young brunette and another cast member in a middle of vocal rehearsal.

"Leslie, you're already late. It's after 6:15 and between six and seven I am not to be distributed so that I can focus completely on—"

"I'm not Leslie," Ebbie snapped, before Rachel's rant could drive her to irrevocable acts.

"Oh, I wasn't aware that Leslie would no longer be with us," Rachel frowned. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I'm friends with Stevie Evans, Sam's little brother," Ebbie explained.

"Oh you're his little girlfriend," Rachel cooed.

 _I am too young to go to jail_ , Ebbie groaned to herself before she corrected Rachel saying, "No I am his friend."

"Well if you ever want some help on how to snag an Evans man, I'm your girl," Rachel winked before scurrying to her desk. "I have a schedule for you. I'll need you to make a copy in the upstairs office for your own records."

"Rachel, I can't be here at 9 am," Ebbie frowned as she read over the paper. "I have _school._ "

"We can edit and compress," Rachel replied. "You'll just have more things to do in the short time you're here and prep for the morning. How late can you stay?"

"Till 9."

"Mmm, 10 would be preferable. What about 9:30?" Rachel bargained.

"My subway train leaves at 9:20, Rachel," Ebbie said flatly.

"So 9:15 perfect!" Rachel beamed. "Now why don't we start today off with you getting my coffee order. Now there's a Starbucks off of E 87th and Lexington Ave—"

"That's over 10 blocks away!"

"-order my grande cafe mocha, no sugar, no whipped cream, extra dry, with half skim, half full milk. No I don't want 2% milk, just a mixture of the both. And raspberry syrup, mix with the milk, then the coffee. By the time you get back it'll be at the perfect temperature and please don't try to nuke it if it gets too cold. Just simply go back and order another. The microwave completely distorts the taste and if _Jungle Boys_ is going to be a show stopper, then its star has to be in prime condition."

 _I love my best friend,_ Ebbie began to chant again as she took a deep breath. _That and Sam better fuck Mercedes through the mattress once this is all said and done._

"I'll get on that Rachel," Ebbie final said plastering a smile on her face.

"Fabulous! Now Ricardo, let's start again from the top," Rachel said to her aide who seemed to be acting as a music stand.

Ebbie slipped out of Rachel's dressing room and was half way to dialing Stacie when she nearly ran into a mass of man.

"Oh sorry about that," he apologized. "You're Rachel's new assistant right? Here I thought you might want this."

He had a Starbucks coffee cup that had the name Rachel Berry scrawled across the side complete with a golden star.

"Stars are sort of her thing," the guy continued. "A metaphor, I believe she once told me. Hopefully you'll like it here, some of her other assistants haven't but the show is great, Rachel's _really_ great. I mean she's the best singer I've ever—"

"Okay, what is your name?" Ebbie interrupted the fan boy.

"Oh, I'm Finn, Finn Hudson," he introduced sticking out one of his bear claw hands.

"Finn Hudson with the enormous hands," Ebbie said. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ebbie McDaniel."

"Well welcome to _Jungle_ _Boys_ Ebbie," Finn beamed. "You should give Rachel that coffee. You know before it gets too cold."

"Right, thanks Finn," Ebbie smiled. She snuck back into Rachel's room and sat the coffee down before slipping back out to call Stacie.

"Hey I've got a five minute break here at the studio," the youngest Evans greeted. "How's it going at the theater?"

"Remind me to kill you and your brother later. Before we get to that, however" Ebbie began casting a second glance at the retreating Finn Hudson, "I've got some news that's going to make your day."

By Saturday, Stacie Evans was walking on air. Every day she got news back from Ebbie that confirmed their mutual suspicions: Rachel had a huge admirer in Finn Hudson. It was a shame; Ebbie was certain that Rachel didn't have any affections to return. Ebbie observed that the girl's head was so far up her own ass that she couldn't possibly recognize any of Finn's "advances" as anything other than obvious praise. All in all, it was good news. Ebbie did state that she didn't want to try to get Rachel to cheat on Sam with Finn. While the large understudy wasn't the smartest guy of the bunch, she believed that he had a good heart.

"Let's feed into their friendship," Ebbie suggested instead. "Let's put Finn in the perfect position to be the comforter once everything is said and done between Sam and Rachel. That way Rachel still gets a decent guy out of all of this, though I'm still not quite certain that she deserves it. If Finn Hudson wants to wait on her hand and foot then God Bless him."

It was a valid point. Focus on rekindling the magic between Sam and Mercedes and with a few light pushes from Finn, and things would fall right in line for Rachel in the end. Eventually they were all going to walk away happy. However, if any of this was going to work, Stacie was going to have to tackle one very important element—Sam. Her oldest brother hadn't been very happy with her since the Rachel-Santana fiasco, but he was finally agreeing to a brother-sister lunch at one of his favorite delis.

"For the record," Sam said as he sat down in one of the outside booths. "I'm not paying."

"Relax monkey breath, this is my treat," Stacie replied.

"I don't have monkey breath," Sam frowned checking anyway.

"I know that but I also knew that you wouldn't be able to resist the urge," Stacie grinned watching her brother fight his own smile. "So tell me how's Rachel?"

"You care now?" Sam asked flatly.

"About you, yes," Stacie answered, "and since you and Rachel are sort of a package deal now…"

"She's an important part of me," Sam added, "and you seem to have the most trouble accepting that fact."

"I told you that the whole Santana thing wasn't my fault!" Stacie defended. "I asked Stevie to tell me what times she _wasn't_ working. How was I supposed to know that he gave me all the times that she was?"

"Not the point Stacie," Sam argued. "You could have left, gone somewhere else to eat, yet you chose to let shit hit the fan."

"Rachel caught Santana's attention before we could get out of there."

"You know what, let's just drop it," Sam sighed. "I'm sick of going back and forth with you on this. It happened, you messed up but I'll let it slide, okay?"

Stacie gave her brother a genuine smile.

"Now tell me how's school going?"

Stacie was never able to answer that question as the heavens seemed to open up and deliver the greatest of blessings. The sweetest part was that she didn't even have to scheme her way to get it.

"Sam? Stacie?" Mercedes asked as she paused on the nearby sidewalk.

Stacie practically squealed whilst jumping into the older woman's arms as Sam sat at their table in shock.

"It's so good to see you Cedes," Stacie grinned. "Isn't that right Sam?"

"Uh, yes definitely," Sam stuttered. "You look really good Mercedes, not in the creepy ex-boyfriend way but…"

"It's good to see you too Sam," Mercedes cut in, giggling softly. "And you look good too, but not in the creepy ex-girlfriend way of course."

"Of course," Sam repeated smiling despite his own embarrassment.

"You know I should go check on our food," Stacie announced setting her flower pendant headband down on the table. "Feel free to take a seat, Cedes. I'll be back in just a few."

The minute she made it back inside the deli, Stacie whipped out her phone and called Ebbie and Stevie.

"Check Stevie's computer screen right now," Stacie told them. Stevie and Ebbie were lounging in Ebbie's living room—well Ebbie was lounging, Stevie was trying to undo the mess that his best friend had made with his hair.

"I hope you never have a girl," Stevie grumbled as he fumbled with the green hair ties. "You'll have her looking like the bride of Frankenstein!"

"The camera's working. We're up and running over here," Ebbie said to Stacie, ignoring Stevie. "I'll call you back in ten. I think your brother has finally stopped stuttering."

"So what are you doing in New York City?" Mercedes asked Sam as Ebbie and Stevie watched on.

"Working with this marketing firm," Sam answered. I mainly help with all of the visual designs that we pitch for other companies looking to revitalize their marketing strategies. What about you? Will I be hearing a Mercedes Jones single anytime soon?"

"Ha! I wish," Mercedes replied bitterly twiddling with her fingers. Sam reached across the table to still her hands and said, "You're going to get there 'Cedes. I know it."

Mercedes' whole body seemed to still under Sam's touch and her eyes didn't waver from their simple embrace until Sam shifted uncomfortably and said, "Is this too weird or?"

"No! No, you're fine," Mercedes said. "It's just been a long week. Thank you Sam, I really needed that."

"Well, I'm here anytime," Sam promised. "And now that you and Kurt are here, I've got to show you two New York City and not the tourist bullshit version, but the real New York City."

"A Sam Evans exclusive," Mercedes laughed.

"Exactly," Sam smiled back. "So…uh, have you caught up with anyone else from the past like…?"

"Quinn?"

The demeanor between them seemed to shift at the mere mention of their friend, which set off alarms in Stevie's head.

"Listen Sam, I want to clear the air about the whole Quinn thing," Mercedes began. "What happened was in the past and there's no point of licking old wounds."

"I completely agree," Sam added. "I really just want a do over, if you're okay with that 'Cedes. I miss my best friend."

"I've missed you too Sammy," Mercedes told him softly.

Ebbie had to imagine that Stacie, even without being able to hear the conversation, was nearly wetting herself at the fact that the two of them were still holding hands. The chemistry was definitely still there and perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult getting Sam to leave Rachel after all.

"Where is your sister?" Mercedes asked after a while, untying her fingers from Sam's.

"Probably saw one of her girlfriends in the deli," Sam sighed. "She'll be in there for _hours_."

"Like you were any better at her age," Mercedes teased. "I can't get over how big she and Stevie are now."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "Stacie's a real crack up now and Stevie reminds me so much of myself at his age, it's really not even funny!"

"Which part: the world's biggest nerd or being in love with one of his best friends?"

Mercedes eyes widened the second after she finished speaking. She hadn't realized that she'd said it aloud.

"Probably a bit of both," Sam answered.

They both smiled shyly at each other as Stacie re-emerged with their food.

"Bon Appétit!" she said with a shit-eating grin.

"Well I should leave you two to your lunch," Mercedes said as she stood.

"No please stay!" Stacie said.

"Yeah, 'Cedes stay. I'd be happy to buy you a bite to eat," Sam offered.

"No, I have to go. I have rehearsal at the Sugar Shack," Mercedes explained. "Speaking of which Sam, I met your friends Santana and Brittany a few weeks ago. We're doing a set together next weekend."

"Really?" Sam nearly choked. "You and Santana get along?"

"Yeah, why do you sound so surprised, Lemon Head?" Mercedes asked.

"Hey, we agreed to let that nickname go," Sam blushed. "Besides, Santana normally hates my girlfriends, I mean ex-girlfriends."

"Oh? Well then, maybe you're dating the wrong type of girl," Mercedes teased. "Tell Stevie I said hi."

"We should hang out some time," Stacie suggested, "just the four of us, for old time's sake. That is if _someone_ can get their schedule cleared."

Stacie glanced pointedly at Sam, who said, "I think I might be able to make something like that work."

"Great," Mercedes smiled. "You all can work out the details and Sam will fill me in over drinks next Saturday at the Sugar Shack."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam grinned.

"Your brother is so fucking whipped, and that's not even his girlfriend," Ebbie commented from the comfort of her couch as she and Stevie watched Sam's eyes linger as Mercedes Jones walked away.

"It's like we said at the Sugar Shack," Stevie said as he pulled the last of the colored hair ties from his head. "Mercedes is my brother's future wife. He just doesn't know it yet."


	8. The Faux Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We will definitely see the aftermath of Stevie and Ebbie's conversation in the next chapter. Plus Finn is back and one of the Evans siblings makes an impromptu visit to see Sam at his office, where we'll meet another member of the "Glee" cast. Three guesses who...
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Much Love,  
> SP

“Every day I become a little more convinced that I’m a masochist,” Stevie Evans groaned. His complaining caused him to move, which in turn gave Ebbie McDaniel, who was braiding his hair, reason to whack him.

“Move again Vanilla Ice,” Ebbie warned as she continued her work in her mother’s living room.

“Is that what’s going on here?” Stevie asked. “Jeez Ebbs, I know you get lonely in this big house but I think that you need an imaginary friend—we can always go to _Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends_. Or at the very least get you a baby doll.”

“You know, if you did manage to get me the collector’s edition doll of Princess Tiana, I would love you forever,” Ebbie said as she started her third cornrow. She wasn’t quite sure what possessed her to braid Stevie’s hair, but it turned out to be an excellent addition to the list of ‘ways to torture Stevie Evans’. Besides, his hair was pretty soft, though said hair was also turning out to be a bitch to braid.

“God I almost forgot how obsessed you are with the Princess and the Frog,” Stevie said. “You dragged me to see that movie three times in the same weekend!”

“Every good movie should be seen twice,” Ebbie reasoned, “and my mother had to bail on me for the third time _as usual_ …”

Stevie turned from his seat on the floor to give Ebbie a gentle squeeze. Vanessa Vasquez was an easy way to get Ebbie riled up. Over the past five years Stevie had seen plenty of broken promises, forgotten birthdays, and cancelled holiday or vacation plans. There was a reason why his mother Mary always left the door open for Ebbie or why his father never commented if he caught Stevie on the air mattress because he’d given up his bed to his best friend.

“Anyway, let’s not get into a Disney throw down Mr. I-still-cry-within-the-first-half-hour-of _The Lion King_!” Ebbie teased.

“Mufasa’s death is a _really_ emotional scene!” Stevie replied sending his best friend into a fit of giggles. He’d long noticed that when Ebbie McDaniel laughed she did it with her whole body: her wild curls would bounce up and down as her body swayed and her colored nails—purple raspberry today—covered her face.

Stevie decided to take advantage of his friend’s lack of attention and pin her to the plush couch that she was lounging on.

“Going a little animalistic I see,” Ebbie teased as Stevie pinned her hands down. Stevie growled just to get her to laugh again.

“You are such a dork!” Ebbie squealed as Stevie went to tickle her sides.

“You love it,” Stevie said, pausing momentarily in his attack. Ebbie, being the opportunist that she was, used that lull to flip him over on the couch and pin his wrists into the cushion.

“Who’s king of the jungle now?”

Ebbie leaned over him with a victorious smirk, her curls tickling Stevie’s face. She was just a little thing. He could probably use inertia to roll them back over, though they were coming dangerously close to the edge of the couch. Even worse was the fact that the whispers in the back of his head reminding him that Ebbie McDaniel, his best friend, was straddling him were getting consistently louder and louder and—

Stevie shot up at the sound of the door bell ringing, slamming his chest against Ebbie’s.

“Fuck Stevie!” Ebbie yelped rubbing her boobs. “These are _not_ air balloons!”

“I thought you said you didn’t have any plans until 3:30?” Stevie asked as Ebbie climbed off of him and headed for the door. As she went to deal with whoever had arrived, Stevie leaned back on the couch and took a deep breath. His body was still tingling slightly but that was normal. After all as a sixteen year old boy, there was nothing wrong with picturing your best friend topless...right?

“Ebbs, who’s at the door?” Stevie asked as he rolled off of the couch. He made it only half way down the hall before seeing what the holdup was.

Ebbie couldn’t have answered him even if she wanted to, as her tongue was currently down the throat of Trent Stewart, the high school’s quarterback. Stevie highly doubted that she’d be interested in talking now. This was, however, the norm: boys and girls passed through Ebbie’s front door on a regular basis. Stevie supposed that just because she’d been caught up with helping set Sam up with Mercedes didn’t mean that the revolving door of Ebbie’s bedroom had permanently closed. It shouldn’t have bothered him. Stevie knew this to be true, but he couldn’t fight the obnoxious cough that broke the two of them apart.

“Dude what the fuck happened to your hair?” Trent chuckled pointing to the unfinished mess on Stevie’s head.

“Oh God Stevie, I can fix that really quickly,” Ebbie said she pulled from Trent. “I totally forgot that I called Trent before you said you could come over.”

“And since I have this thing at 3…”

“You want me to leave so that you two can have sex,” Stevie said flatly.

Ebbie cocked her head to the side and frowned. “Look I’m sorry about the mix up and I promise I won’t let you leave looking as if you mugged K-Fed, but I’ve been spending every weekend with you and your sister. I don’t think it’s a crime to want to spend time with my other friends too.”

“You just want to head upstairs and have sex with him Ebbie; let’s just call it what it is,” Stevie threw back.

“You know what?  You’re right,” Ebbie said stepping towards him. “Trent here is hung like a horse and I plan on getting fucked into my mattress from the next hour and a half. Now if you have a problem with that Steven, the door is right in front of you.”

Seeing that he was clearly unwanted, Stevie pushed past Trent and headed for his car.

“What the hell is the nerd’s problem?” Trent asked closing the door.

“Stevie’s not a nerd Trent,” Ebbie snapped rubbing her temples.

“He and his geeky science friends prefer to play around with toy cars and spend their Saturday mornings in a 3 hour line for a damn comic book. I’m pretty sure that makes your friend a nerd, Ebbie.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Ebbie snapped. “Your job is to go upstairs, get naked and start thrusting not comment on the company I keep.”

“Are you sure that you two are just friends?” Trent frowned. “Why do I have a feeling that you’re going to let him come in between us?”

“This is just sex Trent,” Ebbie reminded him.

“Yeah and I haven’t gotten any for the past month because you’ve been spending all of your free time with your moody little friend and his kid sister,” Trent threw back.

Ebbie took a deep breath and reached up to give Trent a hard kiss on the mouth. She eventually relaxed into it and let her fingers rake through his short brown hair as his hands made their way south to her ass.

“Does that answer your question?” Ebbie asked, breaking off the kiss and leading him towards the staircase.

Trent was great in bed. Ebbie normally tried not to go back to the same guy over and over again, but she and Trent always had a good time together. There were almost never any problems between them and when they were finished, both of them usually left with a smile on their faces. This was the first time that sex with Trent put Ebbie in a sour mood. Rachel Berry’s phone call telling her that she didn’t have to report to the theater that night barely broke it and by 10 o’clock Ebbie found herself parked outside of the Evans’ house contemplating whether she should head inside. Sam was due for a visit to the Sugar Shack for the Troubletones debut and Ebbie had promised to stop by Stevie and Stacie’s if she got off early enough for the show, but dealing with a moody Stevie was not her cup of tea. In the end, a loud knock on her driver’s side window pulled Ebbie out of her thoughts.

“Hi Mrs. Evans,” Ebbie greeted opening the door to hug the petit woman.

“Hi sweetheart, I was wondering if you were alright,” Mary Evans asked. “Your headlights have been shooting into my kitchen for awhile now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” Ebbie said, reaching back into her car to turn it off.

“Is everything alright between you and Stevie?” Mary asked as Ebbie re-emerged. “I noticed that he seemed a bit upset when he came home today.”

“It was just a small fight, nothing serious. We’ll be fine,” Ebbie assured. “When you’ve been friends for years, you’re bound to get into some arguments.”

“Oh I know. Friendships are hard, sometimes harder than relationships,” Mary said, “but I’m sure it’s nothing a little communication can’t fix. Every now and then I think we all forget that a lot of our problems can be solved by being open.”

“Right,” Ebbie said. “Well, I should head upstairs before Stacie comes looking for me.”

“Of course and Ebbie, if you ever want to talk, you know my door is always open,” Mary smiled.

“Thanks Mrs. Evans I’ll keep that in mind,” Ebbie said, before slipping inside.

“You think she’ll take you up on your offer?”

Mary Evans turned to see Dwight approaching. He’d left to go visit with the next door neighbors just before Ebbie’s car had pulled up.

“I hope so,” Mary replied. “I hate that she’d practically alone in that big house.”

“I think even more so, you hate the fact that you’re going to lose our little bet,” Dwight Evans teased. “I’m telling you Mary, Ebbie has got a long way to go before she and Stevie get together.  She’s not going to give in until next winter at the earliest. Stevie is good, but he’s not _that_ good.”

Mary smiled fondly at her husband. “I’m not worried. Never doubt a mother’s intuition,” she reminded him. “And remember I take cash only Evans!”

Stevie had everything set up by the time Ebbie walked into his room. She silently joined them on the bed next to Stacie, who placed Stevie’s laptop on her lap.

“Are those Santana’s boobs?” Ebbie asked breaking the silence.

“Yeah I just sent her a text telling her that she and Brittany put the mini cameras on backwards,” Stacie answered, minimizing that camera window and dragging it to the far right hand corner of the computer screen. “Both of them agreed to wear the mini cams while in the Sugar Shack tonight.”

“Is that how we have eyes on the place?” Ebbie asked.

“That and I made sure that Blaine agreed to lead Sam and Kurt to their designated table for this evening,” Stacie added.

“How did you manage that? And who is Blaine again?” Ebbie laughed.

“The doctor who fixed my arm,” Stevie mumbled. “Stacie stalked him.”

“I did not stalk him,” Stacie corrected. “I merely went back to the clinic to thank him for his services and we cordially came to the agreement that since it was _our_ scheming that allowed him to meet Kurt and since their date went _so_ well, Dr. Anderson owed us a favor. So we’re collecting: Blaine is going to lead them to table 18, which already has a mini cam placed in between the menu stand thanks to Puck.”

“So twisted,” Ebbie smiled. “I love it.”

“Let’s put the love fest on hold,” Stevie cut in. “Blaine is bringing them in.”

“This place looks awesome,” Sam told Kurt as they settled at their table.

“And the girls look hot,” Blaine said, taking a seat next to Kurt. In the background Mercedes, Brittany and Santana could be heard harmonizing to what sounded like a mash up of ‘Hit Me with Your Best Shot’ and ‘One Way or Another’.

“I still can’t believe that this is all happening,” Sam said. “First you and Mercy move to New York, now Mercy, Santana and Brittany are doing the Troubletones. It really is a small world…”

“I’m going to go get drinks,” Blaine yelled over the music.

“So he’s cute,” Sam teased once Blaine left. “He is nowhere near as attractive as me, of course.  But you did good, Kurt.

“Shut up you nut!” Kurt laughed. “And Blaine is, dare I say, perfect. I really do like where this is headed.”

“Well congrats Kurt. You deserve a good healthy relationship,” Sam smiled.

“You do too Sam. Hell, we all deserve a little happiness. How are things with Rachel?”

When Sam sighed, Stacie nearly bounced the laptop out of her grasp in excitement, completely missing the glare her brother sent her way.

“Things are a little stressed right now,” Sam told Kurt. “I brought her home to meet my parents and that went okay, I guess. I mean Stacie completely hates her. I can tell, but Stacie hates every girl I bring home. But now Rachel is apprehensive of me meeting her family. Plus she’s starting to get really busy with her musical, so it makes it a bit harder to get together, you know? And every time we talk about it she keeps saying ‘maybe we should move in together—”

“How long have you two been dating?” Kurt interrupted.

“Almost six months now,” Sam answered, “but I’ve spent the night with Rachel and I know that I’m not ready to climb that hill officially.”

“She can be a bit particular,” Kurt agreed.

“Yeah and I get that. It’s her space, but it is exhausting having to fight with my family over Rachel and to fight for attention from Rachel with this musical…”

“Comes with the territory, I’m afraid,” Kurt said. “But I’m sure things between you and Rachel will work out. And if things go as well as I hope between Blaine and I, then perhaps we can double.”

“Not a chance in hell!” Stacie said as Blaine returned with drinks, the girls not too far behind him.

“You ladies were fabulous,” Kurt praised, “and I don’t think I’ve ever seen The Sugar Shack so full!”

“Yeah, I think Will is about to wet himself,” Santana said before hugging Sam. “Sup Blondie! Long time no see.”

“Good to see you too San, though I heard you and my sister had some fun times a few weeks ago,” Sam frowned as he accepted Santana’s hug.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about bud,” Santana said flippantly as Brittany greeted Sam. “Just let me know when you get a new girlfriend!”

“Hey Sammy,” Mercedes smiled reaching up to give him a hug after Brittany.

“Jeez ‘Cedes you look amazing,” Sam grinned as he wrapped his arms around her.

All of the girls were clad in black but Mercedes had donned a black corset under a well cut sports jacket along with skin tight black pants and boots.

“I don’t care if Rachel Berry’s vagina is a gift from God, I would drop her in a hot second to have permission to take off Mercedes’ corset,” Ebbie said to no one in particular as she and the younger Evans siblings watched from the screen.

“I have to agree with that sentiment,” Stacie added.

“Thank you Sam,” Mercedes blushed. “Now, I hear that you lost a bet to Santana recently and she hasn’t been able to collect…”

“Oh no,” Sam groaned as the three girls began to push him towards the stage.

“Time to collect, sucker!” Santana sang as Mercedes made her way to the mic.

“How y’all doing tonight?” Mercedes asked amongst the cheers from the crowd. Santana and Brittany had both adjusted their cameras eliminating the earlier boob shot to the delight of the eavesdroppers.

“See my friend Sam back here?” Mercedes continued. “He has a little bit stage fright, but he promised my girls and I a song!”

There was more cheering as Sam’s face flushed red and he muttered to Santana, “I hate all of you.”

Santana handed him a guitar along with a wicked grin and nudged him toward center stage.

“I was just kidnapped by two of my ex-girlfriends, so I suppose there’s no sense in trying to back out now,” Sam said into the mic. “So I’m going to dedicate this next song to those two _lovely_ ladies and my good friend who keeps trying to find himself a boy prettier than me.”

Stevie shook his head as he watched Sam point towards Kurt before starting to sing. Ebbie, however, fell into a fit of giggles as she recognized the opening chords. Only Sam Evans could make a grown man singing Justin Bieber’s “Baby” look adorable, let alone socially acceptable. By the time Sam started rapping Stacie and Ebbie were both besides themselves.

“Who told him that he could rap?” Ebbie said between bouts of laughter.

“I don’t know!” Stacie replied barely keeping it together. “I’m just glad he didn’t try ‘Boyfriend’.”

“Well, he’s making it work,” Stevie pointed out. Sam may have looked silly to his sister and her friend, but he had all of Mercedes’ attention, even if she was shaking with mirth, which in the end was good for all of them. Sam’s turn at the mic was followed by two Troubletone numbers. Sam was out of sight from the cameras attached to Brittany and Santana and the camera at the table with Blaine and Kurt but once the girls took their break, Sam came back into view helping each of them off of the stage.

“I need shots!” Brittany said as they returned to their table.

“We all do,” Kurt agreed, “particularly ‘Cedes. I need you lose so you can go home with a man tonight!”

“What? No man for Ms. Jones?” Sam teased.

“What happened to that Shane thing?” Santana asked innocently.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Mercedes groaned. “He’s a nice guy, but _hell to the no._ ”

“That bad?” Sam asked. “I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”

“Oh you didn’t hear?” Kurt cut in. “He gave her _diet soda_!”

“Which of course in Mercedes speak means that he’s judging her weight, right?” Sam added.

“Hush up you two!”

“I’m not saying that you don’t deserve to be picky, ‘Cedes. You deserve the fairytale—”

“I don’t believe in fairytales Sam,” Mercedes interrupted, “even if reality isn’t always my cup of tea.”

“How about something in between then?” Sam amended. “My point is that you still have to be open for you faux Prince Charming to come along.”

“I am open!”

“And if he brings diet soda with him?” Sam asked watching as she huffed.

“So tell me Mr. Evans,” Mercedes challenged looking him dead in the eye, “what happens when I think I’ve found him?”

“When you find him and you let him in, if he still refuses that makes him an idiot, Ms. Jones,” Sam told her.

“Do you know many idiots Mr. Evans?” Mercedes asked drifting steadily closer to Sam.

Stacie didn’t realize how closely she’d been leaning towards the computer screen until she jerked back in frustration thanks to a small brunette waitress breaking them up with drinks.

“Well hey there mister,” the woman greeted Sam flirtatiously after she set the drinks down. “Your night has been made sugary sweet. I’m Sugar by the way, Sugar Motta.”

“Sugar, Sam here has a girlfriend,” Kurt bit out though his eyes were trained steady on Mercedes. She seemed to ignore him, quickly knocking back her shot before announcing that she was heading back to the stage for a solo number. Just as the small jazz band that was on break broke into the intro of “Love on Top” Stacie shut the laptop.

“What are you doing?” Ebbie asked. “There could have been more after that!”

“Sorry kids! Unfortunately that’s our programming for this evening,” Stacie said climbing out the bed.

“Stacie, where the hell are you going with my laptop?” Stevie snapped.

“I am going to enjoy what is bound to be a flawless Beyonce cover in the privacy of my own bedroom while you two are going to stay put and talk to each other,” Stacie said flatly. “You’re sixteen, not _six._ Deal with your own shit and then I’ll graciously give you _The Precious_ back.”

As the door closed behind her, Stevie leaned back into his pillows and groaned. Sometimes he really did hate his sister. He and Ebbie sat in a still silence on his before Ebbie finally made her way for the door.

“Where are you going?” Stevie asked.

“You’ve been acting like an ass all day. I’ve known you for years Stevie, I know when you want me gone,” Ebbie snapped as she grabbed her keys.

“Like you wanted me gone after a few kisses from Trent,” Stevie retorted reaching out to stop her.

“Jesus Christ Stevie! It’s just Trent! We have sex on the occasion. I’ve been fooling around since sophomore year. Hell, I think I’ve had sex with just about every guy in our year, and this has never been a problem for before!”

“That’s not true,” Stevie said lowly.

“Excuse me?” Ebbie snapped. “When in the past have you decided to act like a self-righteous boyfriend?”

“Not that,” Stevie said holding his ground. “You’ve been with just about every guy in our year _except me_. And I think it’s high time that we talked about this Ebbs—about us.”


	9. Finnick vs. Finnikins

Ebbie McDaniel was having one hell of a week. Since the disaster that was her half day with Stevie and Trent, she'd been slammed with testing and studying for her upcoming AP exams. She still had her cheer practices after school every day, and now that she had to run up to New York to spy on Rachel Berry in the evenings, Ebbie was exhausted. It seemed at every turn that Rachel needed this and that and if she had to make another run to the Starbucks that was six blocks away, her precious order was going to end up on Berry's head.

"Long day?"

Ebbie turned to see Finn Hudson standing behind her as she stood in Rachel's dressing room, watching her with a cautious smile.

"Stop looking like someone just told you th iat Santa Claus isn't real," Ebbie said, going back to her task of tidying up the room. "I'm fine."

"Are you really? Because even Rachel noticed that you've been a bit off lately," Finn said. "I'm always here to talk if you need it."

"Not necessary," Ebbie replied, "though I am glad that my apparent bad mood has finally gotten you up on Rachel's radar, even if it was for a brief moment."

"What? I've been on Rachel's radar," Finn defended.

"Does she even know your first name?" Ebbie asked.

"Yes! I mean, she's forgotten it a few times but…"

"It's a four letter name Finn, it's not that difficult," Ebbie cut over him. "What your problem is that she only see you as the coffee boy, the understudy. If you want Rachel Berry…"

"Wow, wait! Who said I wanted Rachel Berry?" Finn scrambled. He lasted only a few seconds under Ebbie's glare before relenting.

"I didn't think it was that obvious," he mumbled.

"Trust me Finn," Ebbie replied frankly, "it is, but lucky for you, you have me."

"Wait, I'm going to get romance tips from a high schooler?" Finn said.

"Between you and me, who do you think has gotten more ass in the last six weeks?" Ebbie replied.

"You," Finn mumbled.

"And between you and me, who do you think has gotten past second base more times in the past year?"

"Hey I'm not that bad…"

"Finn," Ebbie deadpanned.

"Okay, you," Finn admitted. "So what are you going to do? Teach me swag?"

"See the fact that you tried to use the word 'swag' in a sentence tells me that you haven't been laid recently," Ebbie said.

"But I don't want to just get laid," Finn replied. "I _like_ Rachel. I know that people see her as a dictator and a militant and she can be those things at times, but I love her passion, her drive, and her take no prisoners attitude. I want to know more about her. I want to know what makes her laugh and I want to be the person who makes her smile every morning."

For a brief moment, Finn had morphed from the tall, broad shouldered brunette who couldn't seem to outgrow his boyish charm to a thin, lanky blonde haired boy who almost always wore a bashful yet welcoming smile.

" _I want to be the reason you smile every morning Ebbs…"_

"Then you have to fight for her attention," Ebbie said pulling herself together. "You have to show her that you're not just baby Finnikins, that you can be her Finnick."

"Wait, what's a Finnick?" Finn asked.

"If I throw out a Harry Potter reference will you let that glide over your head too?" Ebbie groaned. "Forget about Finnick. You just have to show Rachel that you're more than an understudy, you can be the leading man too!"

"That's what Bob said," Finn added.

"And that's coming from the director! There's no one on this set who knows Rachel Berry the way that you do. Show her that you're more than just a pretty face, that you really know her!"

"Wouldn't it be a bit freaky to just walk up to her and talk about how she's allergic to pickles and refuses to step on cracks before a performance?"

"Finn, what is Rachel's biggest passion?"

"Music."

"Right, so go talk to her about music," Ebbie suggested. "Butter her up a bit, name drop a few of her favorite artists and composers and try to make sure that the conversation doesn't sound like you just got all of your information off of Wikipedia."

"But I _did_ look up some of her favorite artists on Wikipedia…"

Ebbie bit back a groan. "We've got a _lot_ of work to do."

On the other side of town, Sam Evans had a lot of work to do as well, but Artie Abrams was unfortunately holding his interns hostage in the copier room.

"Am I ever going to get my interns back?" Sam asked his friend as he stood in the doorway.

"You _want_ Matt back?" Artie asked as they watched the tall student intern struggle with his papers. "He's like Shaq at the free throw line."

"He's got potential," Sam replied in a clipped tone.

"What bit you in the behind? You look like someone just ripped a page in your first edition of World's Finest Comics issue number 2," Artie said as he rolled out of the copy room. "Girl troubles again?"

"Sort of," Sam replied.

"Now are you sure that this girl isn't a lesbian, because I think I might have found the one and I'm not interested in having her snatched up by another one of your crazy girlfriends!"

"How was I supposed to know that Santana was a lesbian?" Sam defended.

"Relax fool, I'm only half serious," Artie smiled. "What's going on in lover's land?"

"Things are just getting a bit more stressful on both ends," Sam sighed. "She's busy, I'm busy and I'm trying to meet her in the middle but—"

"You feel like you're talking to a brick wall?" Artie guessed.

"Exactly!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Evans?"

Artie and Sam turned to see Melody, the company's head secretary approaching them.

"Your brother Steven is here," she told him. "He said it was important."

Stevie sat in the lobby, hunched over in one of the chairs waiting anxiously for his brother. As Sam approached him he looked up at him with worried eyes.

"Are you busy? Because I can come back later," he said instantly. "I mean it's not crazy important, but I really just need someone to talk to."

"Alright," Sam said. "Let me go grab my jacket. I was about to take off for lunch anyway."

Sam took his brother down to his favorite hot dog stand a few blocks from the office. As they leaned against one of the towering skyscrapers that were scattered around Manhattan, Sam gave his brother the look that said "Spill".

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but I kind of have a crush on Ebbie," Stevie began.

"Wait, was that supposed to be a secret?" Sam chuckled. "Stevie we all know that you and Ebbie like each other. We just wanted the two of you to figure it out for yourselves."

"Yeah, everyone seems to understand that _except_ Ebbie," Stevie said frowning as they turned into a small nearby park.

"Alright, lover boy," Sam said as they sat on the first bench they saw, "let's not beat around the bush here. What did you do?"

" _You've been with every guy in our year except me," Stevie said as Ebbie kept one hand firmly on the door. "And I think it's finally time that we talked about this Ebbs—about us."_

" _You know what I think Steven?" Ebbie replied. "I think you fell on your head this morning and I'm going to let you get some rest and we can both pretend that this conversation never happened."_

" _I'm_ sick _of pretending that there's nothing going on between us!" Stevie argued. "We've been friends for years now. We've always been open with each other. Why does that have to stop now?"_

" _Because you're not asking me to talk to you as your friend!" Ebbie snapped. "And I'm not comfortable with having this conversation with you!"_

" _Why? Because my endgame isn't tying you to a bed and having my way with you?" Stevie threw back._

" _Are you trying to call me a whore?" Ebbie exclaimed._

" _I'm not trying to call you anything! If you'd listen to me, you hear that I'm trying to tell you that I like you Ebbie!" Stevie yelled. "I like the girl who'll sit down on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons with me even if she makes a mess trying to braid my hair. I like the girl who goes to my science exhibits without any complaints, and I even like the bitchy cheerleader that she can be. I'm not a fan of the way that you have sex with everyone; not because I think you're a whore, but because I want to be that guy! I want more than this friendship where we dance around the attraction between us. I want to be enough for you, I want to be the reason that you smile every morning Ebbs!"_

" _Stop," Ebbie interrupted her voice breaking. "I can't hear anymore of this."_

" _Why?" Stevie asked leaving the bed. "Why can't you just listen to me Ebbs? Why can't you just give us a shot?"_

" _Because I don't have to," she said not bothering to stop a few runaway tears, "and I don't want to and I can't. So don't ask me to Stevie, please."_

" _You can be with every guy and girl at our school, but you can't be with me," Stevie said trying to keep himself together. This wasn't the way he'd planned to go. He knew she'd fight him but he'd hoped that she'd at least listen, at try._

" _Ebbie please," Stevie tried again._

" _I'm leaving Stevie," Ebbie said opening the door. "I have to go."_

"I'm sorry," Sam said after Stevie was done. "I know exactly what the feeling is like to have someone so close to you reject you like that."

"I just, don't get it Sam," Stevie said his voice growing tight. "I don't get what I did wrong."

"Stevie it's not about right or wrong. I don't want to sound harsh here but in the end Ebbie might have done you a favor," Sam said.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not easy making the transition from best friend to girlfriend," Sam explained. "Trust me I've done it, _twice._ And both times…well, they didn't end the way I wanted. At least this way you don't have to end your friendship with Ebbie."

"But I can't be friends with Ebbie, Sam that's my point," Stevie argued. "I can't sit on the sideline and only have half of her. When she's with me, I feel like I'm on air and I know that there's no place in the world that I'd rather be and I _know_ she feels that too, but the minute someone like Trent comes along it's like I mean nothing to her. She's running."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "Are you sure that she just doesn't feel the same way about you?"

"You didn't see the look on her face when I tried to talk to her," Stevie replied. "If she simply didn't feel the same way she would have just said that."

"Maybe she was trying to spare your feelings?"

" _That's_ how you spare someone's feelings?" Stevie snapped.

"I'm not saying it makes sense Stevie, but it's a possibility. Look what I'm saying is that I've been sixteen and in love with my best friend and sometimes the best of friends make the worst of relationships. That's what I'm saying Stevie. I don't know why Ebbie is saying no now, but you shouldn't force this on her. She has to want it or else it'll fall apart and you'll lose one of the closest people to you," Sam pressed.

"I already feel like I'm losing the closest person to me," Stevie replied.

"Then maybe it's time that you found a new best friend."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," Stevie said running his hands through his hair.

By the time the new school week arrived, Stevie was armed with a new attitude and Stacie could smell Sam's meddling a mile away. She knew it wasn't intentional. Her oldest brother was probably trying his best to help Stevie, but the middle child of the Evans family had a nasty knack of finding the worst possible way of practicing the advice of others—and Stevie deciding to flat out ignore Ebbie McDaniel was proving not to be one of his better decisions.

Ebbie put on a good show of indifference, not actively trying to speak to the blonde haired boy either, but Stacie could see her patience waning. She'd heard the end of their tense conversation last week and knew that it would take some time for Stevie to either accept Ebbie's decision or for Ebbie to come to her senses. What she didn't know was that the pair of them would make such a show out of their romantic struggle.

Stacie had been with Ebbie when they entered the cafeteria on Tuesday. As the day before, she made no mentions of her older brother and instead continued to keep her up to date with the Rachel and Finn situation.

"He's really starting to get the whole flirting thing, which is good, because he was _terrible_ ," Ebbie said. "I think Mr. Hudson is going to turn out just fine for Ms. Berry. Once Sam runs off into the wind with Mercedes, the USS Finchel will be safe to sail."

" _Finchel_? That sounds like the name of a disease," Stacie said.

"It's better than Hudberry," Ebbie shrugged, "and remember, there will be no cheating on the USS Finchel. So don't you dare ask me to push them together any faster than the rate I'm going."

"Relax Mama Bear," Stacie smiled. "Your precious ship will be just fine."

"Looking good McDaniel," Trent Stewart said as he passed.

"What exactly is the point of that?" Stacie asked rolling her eyes as Trent openly leered at Ebbie.

"Trent? It's just a fuck."

"And again I ask, what is the point?"

"I like to orgasm," Ebbie shrugged.

"Get a vibrator!" Stacie threw back.

"Stacie have you ever _used_ a vibrator? Trust me, it gets real old real quick."

"Well maybe you should get one that resembles my brother's dick since you're so obsessed with it," Stacie snipped. "That is before he finds another cute little cheerleader to get attached to."

Stacie knew that she probably shouldn't have done it, but once she saw brother speaking with Amandla Peterson, a sophomore on Ebbie's squad, she could barely keep the words out of her mouth. Ebbie turned around to see Stevie talking animatedly with the young girl and Stacie knew that she was already seeing red.

"Stevie!"

He didn't turn at the sound of Ebbie's raised voice but Amandla did and seeing the clear look of disdain on her captain's face changed her entire demeanor. Stacie watched as the small girl pointed at Ebbie as she spoke to Stevie, but he didn't budge and even went as far as to placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Stacie couldn't help but hold back a laugh. Either Stevie knew exactly what he was doing or was dumb enough to think that he'd get away with ignoring his friend in front of all of their peers.

"Steven!" Ebbie called out again.

When she got no answer, Stacie expected her to march up right to him, but she instead doubled back and silently slipped her way in between the lunch line. When Stacie saw her re-emerge with a large plate of strawberry yogurt, she tried to step in.

"Um, Ebbie where are you going with that?"

The where in question turned out to be the back of Stevie's head. Amandla had jumped out of range before Ebbie had thrown the dessert at him but several of Stevie's other friends got sprayed with the yogurt, though it was nothing compared to the stains on the back of Stevie's shirt.

"Well _that_ got your attention," Ebbie smiled.

"Oh you wanted my attention," Stevie said slowly anger rippling from him. "Trust me Ebbie, _you got it_."

Stacie was quite sure that when Ebbie meant 'attention' she didn't mean milk being thrust in her face.

"Glad to have _your_ attention Ms. McDaniel," Stevie snapped throwing the empty milk carton at her.

"You little—"

"Evans! McDaniel! Front office!"

One of the school's teachers parted the anxious crowd that had been waiting for the showdown of month—Ebbie usually had an audience when she went head to head with someone, though this hadn't been the first time that she'd gone head to head with a boy. As Stacie watched her brother and Ebbie get dragged from the café, Margie Henson, another close friend of Ebbie's came to stand beside her.

"Were you as unsurprised as I was by that?" she asked lightly.

"I'd say that was about three years in the making," Stacie shrugged.

"I just wish that they'd finally put all that damn sexual tension to good use," Margie groaned. "Their bullshit is getting really old."

"I'm working on it," Stacie replied. "Patience is a virtue."

"Yes, but you and I have money that they're going to get together before graduation and it looks like they just went about 50 steps back," Margie reminded.

"Or 50 steps forward. You know Ebbie, she's stubborn but she's not stupid," Stacie said. "I need to run Margie. I've got to call my brother for Stevie's 'get out of jail free card'."

Sam arrived at his sibling's high school not too long after Stacie's phone call. He called the school to let them know that calling their parents wouldn't be necessary. As a sibling over 21 he would be given the permission to take his now-suspended-brother home. Apparently Carmichael High took destruction of school property—i.e. cheerleading uniforms—rather seriously. Though thanks to his brother's otherwise clean record, the school decided to just let them both go home for the rest of the day and leave the incident off of their permanent records.

"You know when I said find a new best friend, egging her on by ignoring her isn't really what I meant," Sam said as he walked through the halls with his younger brother.

"She asked for it," Stevie replied. "Ebbie needs to know that there are consequences for her actions and I'm not giving up."

"So you did it on purpose?"

"Of course I did," Stevie said smiling slightly. "I learned from the best."

"Well just don't mention that to mom," Sam chuckled. "I don't think this is what she meant when she said that you'd be looking up to me."

"I wasn't talking about you!" Stevie teased. "At least Dad got the girl in the end!"

He dodged his brother's playful swat to the back of his head but laughed along with him.

"Look do you think you can stay out of trouble for the rest of the week? I won't mention this to Mom and Dad. I'm only letting you off the hook because I don't want you grounded on the weekend that Mercy is clearing her schedule to come hang out with us."

"Wait, it's going to be me, you, Stacie and Mercy? This weekend?" Stevie asked.

"Yep," Sam confirmed smiling at his brother's excitement. "It'll be just like old times."

 _Oh brother of mine, you have no idea_ , Stevie thought as he threw one arm over his brother's shoulders. "Sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I have to give a shout out to my beta Jill! I know this chapter was light on the Samcedes but I promise there will be plenty for you hang onto in Chapter 10 and of course plenty of scheming thanks to Stacie and Stevie ;) Look out for an update for The 28th Amendment coming in soon. Thank you as always for reading!
> 
> Much Love,
> 
> Santiva Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Song Credits:
> 
> Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen & Fever originally recorded by Little Willie John and made popular by Peggy Lee


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